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LIBEART 

OF THE 

Theological Seminary, 

PRINCETON, N. J. 
Case, v— 0^ >—- V»— 

Shelf, w > J Q[ 

Book, V' 




( ^ ' * ' y /Paylsst 



THE WOMEN 



OF THE 



AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 



DY 



l/ 



ELIZABETH F. ELLET, 

AOTHOR OF " THE CHARACTERS OF SCHILLER," " COUNTRY RAMBLEi," BT«. 

IN TWO VOLUMES. 

VOL, I. 



NEW YORK: 

BAKER AND SCRIBNER, 

3G fARK ROW AND 145 NASSAU STREET 

1850. 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1848, by 

BAKER AND SCRIBNER, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York. 



C. W. BENEDICT, 

Stereotyper and Printer, 

U Spruce street. 



TO 

SARAH MAXWELL LUMAIIS, 

THE DAUGHTER OF A REVOLUTIONARY OFFICER, 
THIS WORK 

IS RESPECTFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED, 



LIST OF PLATES, 

I. Mercy Warren. 

II. Esther Reed. 

III. Mary Philipse. 

IV. Sarah Bache. 
V. Martha Wilson. 

VI. Rebecca Motte. 

VII. Cornelia Beekman. 



CONTENTS OF VOL. I 











riGE, 




Introductory, ..... 13 


I 


Mary Washington, 








24 


II. 


Esther Reed, 








36 


III. 


\ Catharine Schuyler, . 








57 


IV. 


Catharine Greene, 








62 


V. 


Mercy Warren, . 
Janet Montgomery, 
Hannah Winthrop, 
Catharine Livingston, 








74 

90 

92 

. 102 


VI. 


Lucia Knox, . 
Mrs. Gates, . 








. 107 
. Ill 


VII. 


Mary Draper, 
Mrs. Pond, 








. 113 
117 


VIII. 


Frederica de Riedesel, 








. 119 


IX, 


Dorothy Hancock, 
Sarah Hull, . 








. 143 
. 145 


X. 


Harriet Ackland, 








. 147 


XL 


Hannah Erwin Israel, 








. 155 




Mary Redmond, 






. 169 


XII. 


Lydia Darrah, 






. 171 


XIII. 


Rebecca Franks, . 




. . 


. 178 


XIV. 


Elizabeth Ferguson, 






. 


. 189 



Vlll 



CONTENTS. 







txaz. 


XV 


Mary Philipse, . 


. 202 


XVI 


Sarah Reeve Gibbes, 


. 208 




Mary Anna Gibbes, 


. 217 


XVII. 


Eliza Wilkinson, 


. 222 


XVIII. 


Martha Bratton, 


. 237 




Mrs. Adair, 


. 245 


XIX. 


Jane Thomas, 


. 250 




Isabella Sims, . 


. 260 




Mrs. Jolly, 


. 260 




Mrs. Otterson, 


. 261 




Nancy Jackson, 


. 262 




Jane McJunkin, 


. 262 


XX. 


Dorcas Richardson, 


. 263 


XXI. 


Elizabeth, Grace, and 


Rachel Martin, 274 




Mrs. Spalding, 


. 280 


XXII. 


Dicey Langston, 


. 284 




Mrs. Dillard, 


. 291 




Mrs. Potter, 


. 294 




Mrs. Beckham, 


. 294 


XXIII. 


Elizabeth Steele, 


. 297 




Mrs. Brevard, 


. 300 




Mrs. Jackson, 


. 303 


XXIV. 


Mary Slocumb, 


. 304 




Esther Wake, 


. 331 


XXV. 


Sarah Bache, 


. 332 



PREFACE. 



In offering this work to the public, it is due to the reader 
no less than the writer, to say something of the extreme diffi- 
culty which has been found in obtaining materials sufficiently 
reliable for a record designed to be strictly authentic. 
Three quarters of a century have necessarily effaced all 
recollection of many imposing domestic scenes of the Revo- 
lution, and cast, over many a veil of obscurity through which 
it is hard to distinguish their features. Whatever has not 
been preserved by contemporaneous written testimony, or 
derived at an earty period from immediate actors in the 
scenes, is liable to the suspicion of being distorted or dis- 
colored by, the imperfect knowledge, the prejudices, or the 
fancy of its narrators. It is necessary always to distrust, 
and very often to reject traditionary information. Much of 
this character has been received from various sources, but I 
have refrained from using it in all cases where it was not 
supported by responsible personal testimony, or where it 
was found to conflict in any of its details with established 
historical facts. 

Inasmuch as political history says but little — and that 
vaguely and incidentally — of the Women who bore their part 



X PREFACE. 

in the Revolution, the materials for a work treating of them and 
their actions and sufferings, must be derived in great part from 
private sources. The apparent dearth of information was at 
first almost disheartening. Except the Letters of Mrs. Adams, 
no fair exponent of the feelings and trials of the women of 
the Revolution had been given to the public ; for the Letters 
of Mrs. Wilkinson afford but a limited view of a short period 
of the war. Of the Southern women, Mrs. Motte was the 
only one generally remembered in her own State for the act 
of magnanimity recorded in history ; and a few fragmentary 
anecdotes of female heroism, to be found in Garden's collec- 
tion, and some historical works — completed the amount of 
published information on the subject. Letters of friendship 
and affection — those most faithful transcripts of the heart 
and mind of individuals, have been earnestly sought, and 
examined wherever they could be obtained. But letter- 
writing was far less usual among our ancestors than it is at 
the present day ; and the uncertainty, and sometimes the 
danger attendant upon the transmission of letters were not 
only an impediment to frequent correspondence, but excluded 
from that which did exist, much discussion of the all-absorb- 
ing subjects of the time. Of the little that was written, too, 
how small a portion remains in this — as it has been truly 
called — manuscript-destroying generation ! But while much 
that might have illustrated the influence of woman and the 
domestic character and feeling of those days, had been lost 
or obscured by time, it appeared yet possible, by persevering 
effort, to recover something worthy of an enduring record. 
With the view of eliciting information for this purpose, appli- 
cation was made severally to the surviving relatives of women 
remarkable for position or influence, or whose zeal, personal 



PREFACE XI 

sacrifices, or heroic acts, had contributed to promote the estab- 
lishment of American Independence. 

My success in these applications has not been such as to 
enable me to fill out entirely my own idea of the work I 
wished to present to the reader. Some of the sketches are 
necessarily brief and meagre, and perhaps few of them do 
full justice to their subjects. There is, also, inherent diffi- 
culty in delineating female character, which impresses itself 
on the memory of those who have known the individual by 
delicate traits, that may be felt but not described. The 
actions of men stand out in prominent relief, and are a safe 
guide in forming a judgment of them ; a woman's sphere, on 
the other hand, is secluded, and in very few instances does 
her personal history, even though she may fill a conspicuous 
position, afford sufficient incident to throw a strong light upon 
her character. This want of salient points for description 
must be felt by all who have attempted a faithful portraiture 
of some beloved female relative. How much is the difficulty 
increased when a stranger essays a tribute to those who are 
no longer amonof the living, and whose existence was passed 
for the most part in a quiet round of domestic duties ! 

It need scarcely be said that the deficiency of material has 
in no case been supplied by fanciful embellishment. These 
memoirs are a simple and homely narrative of real occur- 
rences. Wherever details were wanting to fill out the picture, 
it has been left in outline for some more fortunate limner. 
No labor of research, no pains in investigation — and none but 
th >m' who have been similarly engaged can estimate the 
labor — have been spared in establishing the truth of the 
statements. It can hardly be expected that inaccuracies have 
been altogether avoided in a work where he facts have to 



Xll PREFACE. 

be drawn from numerous and sometimes conflicting authori- 
ties ; but errors, if discovered, may be hereafter corrected. 

The sketches contained in the first volume, illustrating pro- 
gressive stages of the war, are arranged with some obser- 
vance of chronological order ; while those in the second do 
not admit of such a distribution. 

Many authorities, including nearly all the books upon the 
Revolution, have been consulted, and i-eference is made to 
those to which I am under special obligations. For the 
memoir of Mrs. Bache, I am indebted to the pen of Mr. 
William Duane, of Philadelphia, and for that of Mrs. 
Allen, to Mr. Henry R. Schoolcraft, of Washington. My 
grateful acknowledgments are due also to Mr. Jacob B. 
Moore, Librarian of the New York Historical Society, for 
valuable advice, and for facilities afforded me in examining 
the books and manuscripts under his charge ; and to Dr. 
Joseph Johnson, the Rev. James H. Saye, and the Hon. 
Judge O'Neall, of South Carolina, who have obligingly aided 
me in the collection of authentic particulars connected with 
the war in that State. Others have rendered valuable assist- 
ance in the same way, and in affording me an opportunity of 
examining family papers in their possession. To them all — 
and to those numerous friends who have encouraged me by 
their sympathy and kind wishes in this arduous but inter- 
esting task — I offer most heartfelt thanks. If the work whose 
progress they have cherished should be deemed a useful con- 
tribution to American History, they will be no less gratified 
than myself that its design has been accomplished. 

E. F. E 



THE WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 



All Americans are accustomed to view with inte- 
rest and admiration the events of the Revolution. Its 
scenes are vivid in their memory, and its prominent 
actors are regarded with the deepest veneration. But 
while the leading spirits are thus honored, attention 
should be directed to the source whence their power 
was derived — to the sentiment pervading the mass of 
the people. The force of this sentiment, working in 
the public heart, cannot be measured ; because, amidst 
the abundance of materials for the history of action, 
there is little for that of the feeling of those times. And, 
as years pass on, the investigation becomes more and 
more difficult. Yet it is both interesting and important 
to trace its operation. It gave statesmen their influence, 
and armed heroes for victory. What could they have 
done but for the home-sentiment to which they appealed, 
and which sustained them in the hour of trial and 
success? They were thus aided to the eminence they 
gained through toils and perils. Others may claim a 
share in the merit, if not the fame, of their illustrious 



14 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

deeds. The unfading laurels that wreathe their brows 
had their root in the hearts of the people, and were 
nourished with their life-blood. 

The feeling which wrought thus powerfully in the 
community depended, in great part, upon the women. 
It is always thus in times of popular excitement. Who 
can estimate, moreover, the controlling influence of 
early culture! During the years of the progress of 
British encroachment and colonial discontent, when 
the sagacious politician could discern the portentous 
shadow of events yet far distant, there was time for 
the nurture, in the domestic sanctuary, of that love of 
civil liberty, which afterwards kindled into a flame, 
and shed light on the world. The talk of matrons, in 
American homes, was of the people's wrongs, and the 
tyranny that oppressed *them, till the sons who had 
grown to manhood, with strengthened aspirations to- 
wards a better state of things, and views enlarged to 
comprehend their invaded rights, stood up prepared to 
defend them to the utmost. Patriotic mothers nursed 
the infancy of freedom. Their counsels and their 
prayers mingled with the deliberations that resulted in 
a nation's assertion of its independence. They ani- 
mated the courage, and confirmed the self-devotion of 
those who ventured all in the common cause. They 
frowned upon instances of coldness or backwardness; 
and in the period of deepest gloom, cheered and urged 
onward the desponding. They willingly shared inevit- 
able dangers and privations, relinquished without regret 
prospects of advantage to themselves, and parted with 



WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION 15 

those they loved better than life, not knowing w T hen 
they were to meet again. It is almost impossible now 
to appreciate the vast influence of woman's patriotism 
upon the destinies of the infant republic. We have 
no means of showing the important part she bore in 
maintaining the struggle, and in laying the foundations 
on which so mighty and majestic a structure has arisen. 
History can do it no justice ; for history deals with the 
workings of the head, rather than the heart. And 
the knowledge received by tradition, of the domestic 
manners, and social character of the times, is too im- 
perfect to furnish a sure index. We can only dwell 
upon individual instances of magnanimity, fortitude, 
self-sacrifice, and heroism, bearing the impress of the. 
feeling of Revolutionary days, indicative of the spirit 
which animated all, and to which, in its various and 
multiform exhibitions, we are not less indebted for na- 
tional freedom, than to the swords of the patriots who 
poured out their blood. 

" 'Tis true, Oleander," says a writer in one of the 
papers of the day,* " no mean merit will accrue to him 
who shall justly celebrate the virtues of our ladies! 
Shall not their generous contributions to relieve the 
wants of the defenders of our country, supply a column 
to emulate the Roman women, stripped of their jewels 
when the public necessity demanded them?" Such 
tributes were often called forth by the voluntary exer- 
tions of American women. Their patriotic sacrifices 
were made with an enthusiasm that showed the earnest 

* New Jersey Gazette, October 11th, 1780. 



16 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

spirit ready on every occasion to appear in geneious 
acts. Some gave their own property, and went from 
house to house to solicit contributions for the army. 
Colors were embroidered by fair hands, and presented 
with the charge never to desert them ; and arms and 
ammunition were provided by the same liberal zeal. 
They formed themselves into associations renouncing 
the use of teas, and other imported luxuries, and engag- 
ing to card, spin, and weave their own clothing. In 
Mecklenburgh and Rowan counties, North Carolina, 
young ladies of the most respectable families pledged 
themselves not to receive the addresses of any suitors 
who had not obeyed the country's call for military 
service. 

The needy shared the fruit of their industry and 
economy. They visited hospitals daily ; sought the 
dungeons of the provost, and the crowded holds of 
prison ships ; and provisions were carried from their 
stores to the captives whose only means of recom- 
pense was the blessing of those who were ready to 
perish. Many raised grain, gathered it, made bread, 
and carried it to their relatives in the army, or in pri- 
sons, accompanying the supply with exhortations never 
to abandon the cause of their country. The burial of 
friends slain in battle, or chance-encounters, often de- 
volved upon them ; and even enemies would not have 
received sepulture without the service of their hands. 

When the resources of the country scarcely allowed 
the scantiest supply of clothing and provisions, and 
British cruisers on the coast destroyed every hope of 



WOMEN" OF THE REVOLUTION. 17 

aid from merchant vessels ; when, to the distressed 
troops, their cup of misfortune seemed full to overflow- 
ing, and there appeared no prospect of relief, except 
from the benevolence of their fellow-citizens ; when 
even the ability of these was almost exhausted by 
repeated applications — then it was that the women of 
Pennsylvania and New Jersey, by their zealous exer- 
tions and willing sacrifices, accomplished what had been 
thought impossible. Not only was the pressure of want 
removed, but the sympathy and favor of the fair daugh- 
ters of America, says one of the journals, "operated like 
a charm on the soldier's heart — gave vigor to exer- 
tion, confidence to his hopes of success, and the ultimate 
certainty of victory and peace." General Washington, 
in his letter of acknowledgment to the committee of 
ladies, says, " The army ought not to regret its sacri- 
fices or its sufferings, when they meet with so flattering 
a reward, as in the sympathy of your sex ; nor can it 
fear that its interests will be neglected, when espoused 
by advocates as powerful as they are amiable." An 
officer in camp writes, in June, 1780: "The patriotism 
of the women of your city is a subject of conversation 
with the army. Had I poetical genius, I would sit 
down and write an ode in praise of it. Burgoyne, 
who, on his first coming to America, boasted that he 
wxmld dance with the ladies, and coax the men to sub- 
mission, must now have a better understanding of the 
good sense and public spirit of our females, as he has 
already heard of the fortitude and inflexible temper of 
our men." Another observes : " We cannot appeal in 



18 WOMEN CF THE REVOLUTION. 

vain for what is good, to that sanctuary where all that 
is good has its proper home — the female bosom." 

How the influence of women was estimated by John 
Adams, appears from one of his letters to his wife : 

"I think I have some times observed to you in conversa- 
tion, that upon examining the biography of illustrious men, 
you will generally find some female about them, in the 
relation of mother, or wife, or sister, to whose instigation 
a great part of their merit is to be ascribed. You will 
find a curious example of this in the case of Aspasia, 
the wife of Pericles. She was a woman of the greatest 
beauty, and the first genius. She taught him, it is said, 
his refined maxims of policy, his lofty imperial eloquence, 
nay, even composed the speeches on which so great a 
share of his reputation was founded. 

" I wish some of our great men had such wives. By 
the account in your last letter, it seems the women in 
Boston begin to think themselves able to serve their 
country. What a pity it is that our generals in the 
northern districts had not Aspasias to their wives. 

" I believe the two Howes have not very great 
women for wives. If they had, we should suffer more 
from their exertions than we do. This is our good for- 
tune. A smart wife would have put Howe in possession 
of Philadelphia a long time ago." 

The venerable Major Spalding, of Georgia, writes, in 
reply to an application to him for information respecting 
the revolutionary women of his state : " I am a very old 
man, and have read as much as any one I know, yet I have 
never known, and never read of one — no, not one ! — 



WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 19 

who did not owe high standing, or a great name, to his 
mother's blood, or his mother's training. My friend 
Randolph said he owed every thing to his mother. Mr. 
Jefferson's mother was a Randolph, and he acknow- 
ledged that he owed every thing to her rearing. Gene- 
ral Washington, we all know, attributed every thing to 
his mother. Lord Bacon attributed much to his mo- 
ther's training. And will any one doubt that even 
Alexander believed he owed more to the blood and 
lofty ambition of Olympia, than the wisdom or cunning 
of Philip?" 

The sentiments of the women towards the brave 
defenders of their native land, were expressed in an 
address widely circulated at the time, and read in the 
churches of Virginia. " We know,'' it says — " that at 
a distance from the theatre of war, if we enjoy any 
tranquillity, it is the fruit of your watchings, your labors, 
your dangers. * * * * And shall we hesitate to 
evince to you our gratitude ? Shall we hesitate to wear 
clothing more simple, and dress less elegant, while at 
the price of this small privation, we shall deserve your 
benedictions ?" 

The same spirit appears in a letter found among some 
papers belonging to a lady of Philadelphia. It was 
addressed to a British officer in Boston, and written 
before the Declaration of Independence. The follow- 
ing extract will show its character : 

" I will tell you what I have done. My only brother 
I have sent to the camp with my prayers and blessings. 
I hope he will not disgrace me ; I am confident he will 



20 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

behave with honor, and emulate the great examples he 
has before him; and had I twenty sons and brothers 
they should go. I have retrenched every superfluous 
expense in my table and family ; tea I have not drunk 
since last Christmas, nor bought a new cap or gown 
since your defeat at Lexington ; and what I never did 
before, have learned to knit, and am now making stock- 
ings of American wool for my servants ; and this way 
do I throw in my mite to the public good. I know 
this — that as free I can die but once ; but as a slave 1 
shall not be worthy of life. I have the pleasure to 
assure you that these are the sentiments of all my sister 
Americans. They have sacrificed assemblies, parties of 
pleasure, tea drinking and finery, to that great spirit of 
patriotism that actuates all degrees of people through- 
out this extensive continent. If these are the senti- 
ments of females, what must glow in the breasts of 
our husbands, brothers, and sons ! They are as with 
one heart determined to die or be free. It is not a 
quibble in politics, a science which few understand, that 
we are contending for ; it is this plain truth, which the 
most ignorant peasant knows, and is clear to the 
weakest capacity — that no man has a right to take their 
money without their consent. You say you are no 
politician. Oh, sir, it requires no Machiavelian head 
to discover this tyranny and oppression. It is written 
with a sunbeam. Every one will see and know it, 
because it will make every one feel ; and we shall be 
unworthy of the blessings of Heaven if we ever submit 
to it. * * * * * * 



WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 21 

* * * " Heaven seems to smile on us ; for in 
the memory of man, never were known such quantities 
of flax, and sheep without number. We are making 
powder fast, and do not want for ammunition." 

From all portions of the country thus rose the expres- 
sion of woman's ardent zeal. Under accumulated evils 
the manly spirit that alone could secure success, might 
have sunk but for the firmness and intrepidity of the 
weaker sex. It supplied every persuasion that could 
animate to perseverance, and secure fidelity. 

The noble deeds in which this irrepressible spirit 
breathed itself, were not unrewarded by persecution. 
The case of the quakeress Deborah Franklin, who was 
banished from New York by the British commandant 
for her liberality in relieving the sufferings of the Ameri- 
can prisoners,was one among many. In our days of tran- 
quillity and luxury, imagination can scarcely compass the 
extent or severity of the trials endured ; and it is propor- 
tionately difficult to estimate the magnanimity that bore 
all, not only with uncomplaining patience, but with a 
cheerful forgetfulness of suffering in view of the desired 
object. The alarms of war — the roar of the strife itself, 
could not silence the voice of woman, lifted in encourage- 
ment or in prayer. The horrors of battle or massacre 
could not drive her from the post of duty. The 
effect of this devotion cannot be questioned, though 
it may not now be traced in particular instances. 
These were, for the most part, known only to those 
who were themselves actors in the scenes, or who 
lived in the midst of them. The heroism of the Revo- 



22 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION 

lutionary women has passed from remembrance with 
the generation who witnessed it ; or is seen only by 
faint and occasional glimpses, through the gathering 
obscurity of tradition. 

To render a measure of justice — inadequate it must 
be — to a few of the American matrons, whose names 
deserve to live in remembrance — and to exhibit some- 
thing of the domestic side of the Revolutionary picture 
— is the object of this work. As we recede from the 
realities of that struggle, it is regarded with increasing 
interest by those who enjoy its results; while the 
elements which were its life-giving principle, too subtle 
to be retained by the grave historian, are fleeting 
fast from apprehension. Yet without some conception 
of them, the Revolution cannot be appreciated. We 
must enter into the spirit, as well as master the letter. 

While attempting to pay a tribute but too long with- 
held, to the memory of women who did and endured so 
much in the cause of liberty, we should not be insensi- 
ble to the virtues exhibited by another class, belonging 
equally to the history of the period. These had their 
share of reverse and suffering. Many saw their chil- 
dren and relatives espousing opposite sides ; and with 
ardent feelings of loyalty in their hearts, were forced to 
weep over the miseries of their families and neighbors. 
Many were driven from their homes, despoiled of 
property, and finally compelled to cast their lot in deso- 
late wilds and an ungenial climate.* And while their 

* The ancient Acadia, comprising Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, 
was settled by many of the refugee loyalists from the United States. 



WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 23 

heroism, fortitude, and spirit of self-sacrifice were not 
less brightly displayed, their hard lot was unpitied, and 
they met with no reward. 

In the library of William H. Prescott, at his residence 
in Boston, are two swords, crossed above the arch of 
an alcove. One belonged to his grandfather, Colonel 
William Prescott, who commanded the American 
troops in the redoubt at Bunkerhill. The other was 
the sword of Captain Linzee, of the royal navy, who 
commanded the British sloop of war — The Falcon, 
then lying in the Mystic ; from which the American 
troops were fired upon as they crossed to Bunkerhill. 
Captain Linzee was the grandfather of Mrs. Prescott. 
The swords of those two gallant soldiers who fought on 
different sides upon that memorable day — now in the 
possession of their united descendants, and crossed — an 
emblem of peace, in the library of the great A^ .^ican 
historian — are emblematic of the spirit in which our 
history should be written. Such be the spirit in which 
we view the loyalists of those days. 



MARY WASHINGTON. 

The Mother of Washington! There needs no 
eulogy to awaken the associations which cling around 
that sacred name. Our hearts do willing homage to 
the venerated parent of the chief — 

" Who 'mid his elements of being wrought 
With no uncertain aim — nursing the germs 
Of godlike virtue in his infant mind." 

The contemplation of Washington's character natural- 
ly directs attention to. her whose maternal care guided 
and guarded his early years. What she did, and the 
blessing of a world that follows her — teach impressively 
— while showing the power — the duty of those who 
mould the characters of the age to come. The princi- 
ples and conduct of this illustrious matron were closely 
interwoven with the destinies of her son. Washington 
ever acknowledged that he owed everything to his 
mother — in the education and habits of his early life. 
His high moral principle, his perfect self-possession, his 
clear and sound judgment, his inflexible resolution and 
untiring application — were developed by her training 



MARY WASHINGTON. 25 

and example. A believer in the truths of religion, she 
inculcated a strict obedience to its injunctions. She 
planted the seed, and cherished the growth, which bore 
such rich and glorious fruit. La Fayette observed that 
she belonged rather to he age of Sparta or Rome, than 
to modern times; she was a mother formed on the 
ancient model, and by her elevation of character and. 
matchless discipline, fitted to lay the foundation of the 
greatness of him who towered " beyond all Greek — 
beyond all Roman fame." 

The course of Mrs* Washington's life, exhibiting her 
qualities of mind and heart, proved her fitness for the 
high trust committed to her hands. She was remarka- 
ble for vigor of intellect, strength of resolution, and 
inflexible firmness wherever principle was concerned. 
Devoted to the education of her children, her parental 
government and guidance have been described by those 
who knew her as admirably adapted to train the youth- 
ful mind to wisdom and virtue. With her, affection 
was regulated by a calm and just judgment. She was 
distinguished, moreover, by that well marked quality of 
genius, a power of acquiring and maintaining influence 
over those with whom she associated. Without inqui- 
ring into the philosophy of this mysterious ascendancy, 
she was content to employ it for the noblest ends. It 
contributed, no doubt, to deepen the effect of her instruc- 
tions. 

The life of Mrs. Washington, so useful in the domestic 
sphere, did not abound in incident. She passed through 
the trials common to those who lived amid the scenes of 
2 



26 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

tho Revolutionary era. She saw the son whom she had 
taught to be good — whom she had reared in the princi- 
ples of true honor, walking the perilous path of duty 
with firm step, leading his country to independence, and 
crowned with his reward — a nation's gratitude ; yet in 
all these changes, her simple, earnest nature remained 
the same. She loved to speak, in her latter days, of 
her boy's merits in his early life, and of his filial affec- 
tion and duty; but never dwelt on the glory he had 
won as the deliverer of his country, the chief magis- 
trate of a great republic. This was because her ambi- 
tion was too high for the pride that inspires and rewards 
common souls. The greatness she discerned and ac- 
knowledged in the object of her solicitous tenderness 
was beyond that which this world most esteems. 

The only memoir of the mother of Washington extant, 
is the one written by George W. P. Custis, the grandson 
of Martha Washington, and published more than twenty 
years ago in his " Recollections" in the National Gazette. 
These reminiscences were collected by him in the 
course of many years ; and to them we are indebted for 
all that is known of the life and actions of this matron. 
According to these, she was descended from the re- 
spectable family of Ball, who came to this country and 
settled on the banks of the Potomac. In the old days 
of Virginia, women were taught habits of industry and 
self-reliance, and in these Mrs. Washington was 
nurtured. The early death of her husband involved 
her in the cares of a young family with limited resources, 
which rendered prudence and economy necessary to 



MARY WASHINGTON. 27 

provide for and educate her children. Thus circum- 
stanced, it was left to her unassisted efforts to form in 
her son's mind, those essential qualities which gave tone 
and character to his subsequent life. George was only 
twelve years old at his father's death, and retained 
merely the remembrance of his person, and his parental 
fondness. Two years after this event, he obtained a 
midshipman's warrant ; but his mother opposed the plan, 
and the idea of entering the naval service was relin- 
quished. 

The home in which Mrs. Washington presided, was 
a sanctuary of the domestic virtues. The levity of 
youth was there tempered by a well regulated restraint, 
and the enjoyments rational and proper for that age 
were indulged in with moderation. The future chief 
was taught the duty of obedience, and was thus pre- 
pared to command. The mother's authority never 
departed from her, even when her son had attained the 
height of his renown; for she ruled by the affection 
which had controlled his spirit when he needed a guar- 
dian ; and she claimed a reverence next to that due to 
his Creator. This claim he admitted, mingling the 
deepest respect with enthusiastic attachment, and yield- 
ing to her will the most implicit obedience, even to the 
latest hours of her life. One of the associates of his 
juvenile years, Lawrence Washington, of Chotank, 
thus speaks of his home : 

" I was often there with George, his playmate, school- 
mate, and young man's companion. Of the mother I 
was ten times more afraid than I ever was of my own 



28 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

parents ; she awed me in the midst of her kindness, for 
she was indeed truly kind. And even now, when time 
has whitened my locks, and I am the grandparent of a 
second generation, I could not behold that majestic 
woman without feelings it is impossible to describe. 
Whoever has seen that awe-inspiring air and manner, 
so characteristic of the Father of his country, will re- 
member the matron as she appeared, the presiding 
genius of her well-ordered household, commanding and 
being obeyed." Educated under such influences, it is 
not to be wondered at that Washington's deportment 
towards his mother at all times, testified his appreciation 
of her elevated character, and the excellence of her 
lessons. 

" On his appointment to the command-in-chief of the 
American armies," says Mr. Custis, "previously to his 
joining the forces at Cambridge, he removed his mother 
from her country residence, to the village of Fredericks- 
burg, a situation remote from danger and contiguous to 
her friends and relatives. There she remained, during; 
nearly the whole of the trying period of the Revolution. 
Directly in the way of the news, as it passed from north 
to south ; one coui'ier would bring intelligence of success 
to our arms ; another, " swiftly coursing at his heels," 
the saddening reverse of disaster and defeat. While 
thus ebbed and flowed the fortunes of our cause, the 
mother, trusting to the wisdom and protection of 
Divine Providence, preserved the even tenor of her life; 
affording an example to those matrons whose sons were 
alike engaged in the arduous contest ; and showing that 



MARY WASHINGTON. 29 

unavailing anxieties, however belonging to nature, were 
unworthy of mothers whose sons were combating for 
the inestimable rights of man, and the freedom and 
happiness of the world." 

When news arrived of the passage of the Delaware 
in December, 1776, the mother received calmly the 
patriots who came with congratulations; and while 
expressing pleasure at the intelligence, disclaimed for 
her son the praises in the letters from which extracts 
were read. When informed by express of the surrender 
of Cornwallis, she lifted her hands in gratitude towards 
heaven, and exclaimed, " Thank God ! war will now be 
ended, and peace, independence and happiness bless 
our country \" 

Her housewifery, industry, and care in the manage- 
ment of her domestic concerns, were not intermitted 
during the war. " She looketh well to the ways of her 
household," and "worketh willingly with her hands," 
said the wise man, in describing a virtuous woman; 
and it was the pride of the exemplary women of that 
day, to fill the station of mistress with usefulness as well 
as dignity. Mrs. Washington was remarkable for a 
simplicity which modern refinement might call severe, 
but which became her not less when her fortunes were 
clouded, than when the sun of glory arose upon her 
house. Some of the aged inhabitants of Fredericksburg 
long remembered the matron, " as seated in an old-fash- 
ioned open chaise she was in the habit of visiting, 
almost daily, her little farm in the vicinity of the town. 
When there, she would ride about her fields, giving her 



30 WOMEN OP THE REVOLUTION. 

orders and seeing that they were obeyed." When on 
one occasion an agent departed from his instructions — 
she reproved him for exercising his own judgment in 
the matter ; " I command you," she said ; there is noth- 
ing left for you but to obey." 

Her charity to the poor was well known ; and having 
not wealth to distribute, it was necessary that what her 
benevolence dispensed should be supplied by domestic 
economy and industry. How peculiar a grace does 
this impart to the benefits flowing from a sympathizing 
heart ! 

It is thus that she has been pictured in the imagina- 
tion of one of our most gifted poets.* 

" Methinks we see thee, as in olden time, 
Simple in garb, majestic and serene, — 
Unawed by 'pomp and circumstance' — in truth 
Inflexible — and with a Spartan zeal 
Repressing vice, and making folly grave. 
Thou didst not deem it woman's part to waste 
Life in inglorious sloth, to sport awhile 
Amid the flowers, or on the summer wave, 
Then fleet like the ephemeron away, 
Building no temple in her children's hearts, 
Save to the vanity and pride of life 
Which she had worshipped." 

Mr. Custis states that she was continually visited and 
solaced, in the retirement of her declining years, by her 
children and numerous grandchildren. Her daughter, 

* Mrs. Sigourney, in her poetical tribute on the occasion of laying 
the corner-stone for the monument. 



MARY WASHINGTON. 31 

Mrs. Lewis, repeatedly and earnestly solicited her to 
remove to her house, and there pass the remainder of 
her days. Her son pressingly entreated her that she 
would make Mount Vernon the home of her age. But 
the matron's answer was : " I thank you for your affec- 
tionate and dutiful offers, but my wants are few in this 
world, and I feel perfectly competent to take care of 
myself." To the proposition of her son-in-law, Colonel 
Lewis, to relieve her by taking the direction of her 
concerns, she replied : " Do you, Fielding, keep my 
books in order ; for your eyesight is better than mine : 
but leave the executive management to me." Such 
were the energy and independence she preserved to an 
age beyond that usually allotted to mortals, and till 
within three years of her death, when the disease under 
which she suffered (cancer of the breast), prevented 
exertion. 

Her meeting with "Washington, after the victory which 
decided the fortune of America, illustrates her character 
too strikingly to be omitted. "After an absence of 
nearly seven years, it was, at length, on the return of 
the combined armies from Yorktown, permitted to the 
mother again to see and embrace her illustrious son. So 
soon as he had dismounted, in the midst of a numerous 
and brilliant suite, he sent to apprize her of his arrival, 
and to know when it would be her pleasure to receive 
him. And now, mark the force of early education and 
habits, and the superiority of the Spartan over the Per- 
sian schools, in this interview of the great Washington 
with his admirable pareit and instructor. No pa- 



32 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

geantry of war proclaimed bis coming — no trumpets 
sounded — no banners waved. Alone, and on foot, the 
marshal of France, the general-in-chief of the com- 
bined armies of France and America, the deliverer of 
his country, the hero of the age, repaired to pay his 
humble duty to her whom he venerated as the author 
of his being, the founder of his fortune and his fame. 
For full well he knew that the matron was made of 
sterner stuff than to be moved by all the pride that 
glory ever gave, or by all the ' pomp and circumstance' 
of power. 

" The lady was alone — her aged hands employed in 
the works of domestic industry, when the good news 
was announced ; and it was further told, that the victor- 
chief was in waiting at the threshold. She welcomed 
him with a warm embrace, and by the well-remembered 
and endearing names of his childhood. Inquiring as 
to his health, she remarked the lines which mighty cares, 
and many trials, had made on his manly countenance — 
spoke much of old times, and old friends ; but of his 
glory, not one word! 

"Meantime, in the village of Fredericksburg, all 
was joy and revelry. The town was crowded with 
the officers of the French and American armies, and 
with gentlemen from all the country around, who has- 
tened to welcome the conquerors of Cornwallis. The 
citizens made arrangements for a splendid ball, to which 
the mother of Washington was specially invited. Sha 
observed, that although her dar cing days were pretty 



MARY WASHINGTON. 33 

well over, she should feel happy in contributing to the 
general festivity, and consented to attend. 

" The foreign officers were anxious to see the mother 
of their chief. They had heard indistinct rumors re- 
specting her remarkable life and character; but forming 
their judgment from European examples, they were 
prepared to expect in the mother, that glare and show 
which would have been attached to the parents of the 
great in the old world. How were they surprized when 
the matron, leaning on the arm of her son, entered the 
room ! She was arrayed in the very plain, yet becom- 
ing garb worn by the Virginia lady of the olden time. 
Her address, always dignified and imposing, was court- 
eous, though reserved. She received the complimentary 
attentions which were profusely paid her, without evinc- 
ing the slightest elevation ; and at an early hour, wish- 
ing the company much enjoyment of their pleasures, 
and observing that it was time for old people to be at 
home, retired, leaning as before, on the arm of her 
son." 

To this picture may be added another : 

" The Marquis de La Fayette repaired to Fredericks- 
burg, previous to his departure for Europe, in the fall 
of 1784, to pay his parting respects to the mother, and 
to ask her blessing. Conducted by one of her grand- 
sons, he approached the house, when the young gen- 
tleman observed : ' There, sir, is my grandmother.' 
La Fayette beheld — working in the garden, clad in do- 
mestic-made clothes, and her gray head covered with a 
plain straw hat — the mother of ' his h^ro, his friend and 
2* 



34 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

a country's preserver !' The lady saluted him kindly, 
observing, ' Ah, marquis ! you see an old woman ; but 
come, I can make you welcome to my poor dwelling, 
without the parade of changing my dress.' " 

To the encomiums lavished by the marquis on his 
chief, the mother replied : " I am not sui'prised at what 
George has done, for he was always a very good boy." 
So simple in her true greatness of soul, was this remark- 
able woman. 

Her piety was ai'dent ; and she associated devotion 
with the grand and beautiful in nature. She was in 
the habit of repairing every day for prayer to a secluded 
spot, formed by rocks and trees, near her dwelling. 

After the organization of the government, Washing- 
ton repaired to Fredericksburg, to announce to his 
mother his election to the chief magistracy, and bid her 
farewell, before assuming the duties of his office. Her 
aged frame was bowed down by disease ; and she felt 
that they were parting to meet no more in this world. 
But she bade him go, with heaven's blessing and her 
own, to fulfil the high destinies to which be had been 
called. Washington was deeply affected, and wept at 
the parting. 

The person of Mrs. Washington is described as being 
of the medium height, and well proportioned — her fea- 
tures pleasing, though strongly marked. There were 
few painters in the colonies in those days, and no por- 
trait of her is in existence. Her biographer saw her 
but with infant eyes ; but well remembers the sister ol 
the chief. Of her we are told nothing, except that " she 



MARY WASHINGTON. 35 

was a most majestic woman, and so strikingly like the 
brother, that it was a matter of frolic to throw a cloak 
around her, and place a military hat upon her head; 
and such was the perfect resemblance, that had she 
appeared on her brother's steed, battalions would have 
presented arms, and senates risen to do homage to the 
chief." 

Mrs. Washington died at the age of eighty-five, re- 
joicing in the consciousness of a life well spent, and 
the hope of a blessed immortality. Her ashes repose 
at Fredericksburg, where a splendid monument has 
been erected to her memory. 



II. 



ESTHER REED. 

Esther De Berdt was born in the city of London, on 
the 22d of October, 1746, (N. S.,) and died at Philadel- 
phia on the 18th of September, 1780. Her thirty-four 
years of life were adorned by no adventurous heroism ; 
but were thickly studded with the brighter beauties of 
feminine endurance, uncomplaining self-sacrifice, and 
familiar virtue — under trials, too, of which civil war is 
so fruitful. She was an only daughter. Her father, Den- 
nis De Berdt, was a British merchant, largely interested 
in colonial trade. He was a man of high character. 
Descended from the Huguenots, or French Flemings, 
who came to England on the revocation of the Edict 
of Nantes, Mr. De Berdt's pure and rather austere 
religious sentiments and practice were worthy of the 
source whence they came. His family were educated 
according to the strictest rule of the evangelical piety 
of their day — the day when devotion, frozen out of 
high places, found refuge in humble dissenting chapels 
— the day of Wesley and of Whitfield. Miss De 
Berdt's youth was trained religiously ; and she was to 
the end of life true to the principles of her education. 
The simple devotion she had learned from an aged 








*£ ^^^Z- 



ESI HER REED. 



37 



father's lips, alleviated the trials of youth, and bright- 
ened around her early grave. 

Mr. De Berdt's house in London, owing to his busi- 
ness relations with the Colonies, was the home of 
many young Americans who at that time were at- 
tracted by pleasure or duty to the imperial metropolis. 
Among these visitors, in or about the year 1763, was 
Joseph Reed, of New Jersey, who had come to London 
to finish his professional studies (such being the fashion 
of the times) at the Temple. Mr. Reed was in the 
twenty-third year of his age — a man of education, in- 
telligence, and accomplishment. The intimacy, thus 
accidentally begun, soon produced its natural fruits ; 
and an engagement, at first secret, and afterwards 
avowed, was formed between the young English girl 
and the American stranger. Parental discouragement, 
so wise that even youthful impetuosity could find no 
fault with it, was entirely inadequate to break a connec- 
tion thus formed. They loved long and faithfully — how 
faithfully, the reader will best judge when he learns 
that a separation of five years of deferred hope, with 
the Atlantic between them, never gave rise to a wan- 
dering wish, or hope, or thought. 

Mr. Reed, having finished his studies, returned to 
America, in the early part of 1765, and began the prac- 
tice of the law in his native village of Trenton. His 
success was immediate and great. But there was a 
distracting element at work in his heart, which pre- 
vented him from looking on success with complacency ; 
and one plan after another was suggested, by which he 



38 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

might be enabled to return and settle in Great Britain. 
That his young and gentle mistress should follow him 
to America, was a vision too wild even for a san- 
guine lover. Every hope was directed back to Eng- 
land ; and the correspondence, the love letters of five 
long years, are filled with plans by which these cherish- 
ed, but delusive wishes were to be consummated. How 
dimly was the future seen ! 

Miss De Berdt's engagement with her American lover, 
was coincident with that dreary period of British his- 
tory, when a monarch and his ministers were laboring 
hard to tear from its socket, and cast away for ever, the 
brightest jewel of the imperial crown — American colo- 
nial power. It was the interval when Chatham's voice 
was powerless to arouse the Nation, and make Parlia- 
ment pause — when penny- wise politicians, in the happy 
phrase of the day, "teased America into resistance;" 
and the varied vexations of stamp acts, and revenue bills, 
and tea duties, the congenial fruits of poor statesman- 
ship, were the means by which a great catastrophe was 
hurried onward. Mr. De Berdt's relations with Govern- 
ment were, in some respects, direct and intimate. 
His house was a place of counsel for those who sought, 
by moderate and constitutional means, to stay the hand 
of misgovernment and oppression. He was the Agent 
of the Stamp Act Congress first, and of the Colonies 
of Delaware and Massachusetts, afterwards. And most 
gallantly did the brave old man discharge the duty which 
his American constituents confided to him. His heart 
was in his trust ; and we may well imagine the alterna- 



ESTHER REED. 39 

tions of feeling which throbbed in the bosom of his 
daughter, as she shared in the consultations of this 
almost American household ; and according to the 
fitful changes of time and opinion, counted the chances 
of discord that might be fatal to her peace, or of 
honorable pacification which should bring her lover 
home to her. Miss De Berdt's letters, now in the pos- 
session of her descendants, are full of allusions to this 
varying state of things, and are remarkable for the saga- 
cious good sense which they develope. She is, from 
first to last, a stout American. Describing a visit to 
the House of Commons, in April, 1766, her enthusiasm 
for Mr. Pitt is unbounded, while she does not disguise 
her repugnance to George Grenville and Wedderburn, 
whom she says she cannot bear, because " they are such 
enemies to America." So it is throughout, in every 
line she writes, in every word she utters ; and thus 
was she, unconsciously, receiving that training which 
in the end was to fit her for an American patriot's 
wife. 

Onward, however, step by step, the Monarch and his 
Ministry — he, if possible, more infatuated than they — 
advanced in the career of tyrannical folly. Remon- 
strance was vain. They could not be persuaded that 
it would ever become resistance. In 1769 and 1770, 
the crisis was almost reached. Five years of folly had 
done it all. In the former of these years, the lovers 
were re-united, Mr. Reed returning on an uncertain 
visit to England. He found everything, but her faithful 
affection, changed. Political disturbance had had its 



40 WOMEN OP THE REVOLUTION. 

usual train of commercial disaster ; and Mr. De Berdt 
had not only become bankrupt, but unable to rally on 
such a reverse in old age, had sunk into his grave. 
All was ruin and confusion ; and on the 31st of May, 
1770, Esther De Berdt became an American wife, 
the wedding being privately solemnized at St. Luke's 
Church, in the city of London. 

In October, the young couple sailed for America, ar- 
riving at Philadelphia in November, 1770. Mr. Reed 
immediately changed his residence from Trenton to 
Philadelphia, where he continued to live. Mrs. Reed's 
correspondence with her brother and friends in England, 
during the next five years, has not been preserved. It 
would have been interesting, as showing the impressions 
made on an intelligent mind by the primitive state of 
society and modes of life in these wild Colonies, some 
eighty years ago, when Philadelphia was but a large 
village — when the best people lived in Front street, or 
on the water-side, and an Indian frontier was within 
an hundred miles of the Schuylkill. They are, how- 
ever, all lost. The influence of Mrs. Reed's foreign 
connections can be traced only in the interesting cor- 
respondence between her husband and Lord Dartmouth, 
during the years 1774 and 1775, which has been re- 
cently given to the public, and which narrates, in the 
most genuine and trust-worthy form, the progress of 
colonial discontent in the period immediately anterior 
to actual revolution. In all the initiatory measures of 
peaceful resistance, Mr. Reed, as is well known, took a 
large and active share ; and in all he did, he had his 



ESTHER REED. 41 

young wife's ardent sympathy. The English girl had 
grown at once into the American matron. 

Philadelphia was then the heart of the nation. It 
beat generously and boldly when the news of Lexing- 
ton and Bunker's Hill startled the whole land. Volun- 
teer troops were raised — money in large sums was 
remitted, much through Mr. Reed's direct agency, for 
the relief of the sufferers in New England, At last, a 
new and controlling incident here occurred. It was in 
Philadelphia that, walking in the State House yard, 
John Adams first suggested Washington as the Na- 
tional Commander-in-chief; and from Philadelphia that 
in June, 1775, Washington set out, accompanied by 
the best citizens of the liberal party, to enter on his 
duties.* 

* As this memoir was in preparation, the writer's eye was attracted 
by a notice of the Philadelphia obsequies of John Q. Adams, in March, 
1848. It is from the New York Courier and Enquirer : 

" That part of the ceremonial which was most striking, more im- 
pressive than any thing I have ever seen, was the approach through the 
old State House yard to Independence Hall. I have stood by Napo- 
leon's dramatic mausoleum in the Invalides, and mused over the more 
simple tomb of Nelson, lying by the side of Collingwood, in the crypt 
of St. Paul's ; but, no impression was made like that of yesterday. 
The multitude — for the crowd had grown into one — being strictly ex- 
cluded from the square, filled the surrounding streets and houses, and 
gazed silently on the simple ceremonial before them. It was sunset, 
or nearly so — a calm, bright spring evening. There was no cheer- 
ing, no disturbance, no display of banners, no rude sound of drum. 
The old trees were leafless; and no one's free vision was disap- 
pointed. The funeral escort proper, consisting of the clergy, com- 
prising representatives of nearly all denominations, the commit- 
tee of Congress, and the city authorities — in all, not exceeding a 



42 WOMEN OP THE REVOLUTION. 

Mr. Reed accompanied him, as his familv supposed, 
and as he probably 'n tended, only as part of an escort, 
for a short distance. From New York he wrote 
to his wife that, yielding to the General's solicitations, 
he had become a soldier, and joined the staff as Aid, 
and Military Secretary. The young mother — for she 
was then watching by the cradle of two infant chil- 
dren — neither repined nor murmured. She knew that 
it was no restless freak, or transient appetite for excite- 

hundred, with the body and pall bearers, alone were admitted. 
They walked slowly up the middle path from the south gate, 
no sound being heard at the point from which I saw it, but the dis- 
tant and gentle music of one military band near the Hall, and the 
deep tones of our ancient bell that rang when Independence was pro- 
claimed. The military escort, the company of Washington Greys, whose 
duty it was to guard the body during the night, presented arms as the 
coffin went by ; and as the procession approached the Hall, the clergy, 
and all others, uncovered themselves, and, as if awed by the genius 
of the place, approached reverently and solemnly. This simple and 
natural act of respect, or rather reverence, was most touching. It 
was a thing never to be forgotten. This part of the ceremonial was 
what I should like a foreigner to see. It was genuine and simple. 

" And thoughout, remember, illusion had nothing to do with it. 
These were simple, actual realities, that thus stirred the heart. It 
was no empty memorial coffin ; but here were the actual honored re- 
mains of one who was part of our history — the present, the recent, 
and remote past. And who could avoid thinking, if any spark of 
consciousness remained in the old man's heart, it might have bright- 
ened as he was borne along by the best men of Philadelphia, on this 
classic path, in the shadow of this building, and to the sound of this 
bell. The last of the days of Washington was going by, and it was 
traversing the very spot, where, seventy years ago, John Adams had 
first suggested Washington as Commander-in-chief of the army of the 
Revolution. It reposed last night in Independence Hall.'' 



ESTHER REED. 43 

ment, that took away her husband ; for no one was 
more conscious than she, how dear his cheerful home 
was, and what sweet companionship there was in 
the mother and her babes. It was not difficult to 
be satisfied that a high sense of duty was his control- 
ling influence, and that hers it was "to love and be 
silent." 

At Philadelphia she remained during Mr. Reed's first 
tour of duty at Cambridge ; and afterwards, in 1776, 
when being appointed Adjutant-General, he rejoined 
the army at New York. In the summer of that year, 
she took her little family to Burlington ; and in the win- 
ter, on the approach of the British invading forces, took 
deeper refuge at a little farm-house near Evesham, and 
at no great distance from the edge of the Pines. 

We, contented citizens of a peaceful land, can form 
little conception of the horrors and desolation of those 
ancient times of trial. The terrors of invasion are 
things which now-a-days imagination can scarcely com- 
pass. But then, it was rugged reality. The unbridled 
passions of a mercenary soldiery, compounded not only 
of the brutal element that forms the vigor of every 
army, but of the ferocity of Hessians, hired and paid 
for violence and rapine, were let loose on the land. 
The German troops, as if to inspire especial terror, were 
sent in advance, and occupied, in December, 1776, a 
chain of posts extending from Trenton to Mount Holly, 
Rhal commanding at the first, and Donop at the other. 
General Howe, and his main army, were rapidly ad- 
vancing by the great route to the Delaware. On the 



44 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

other hand, the river was filled with American gondolas, 
whose crews, landing from time to time on the Jersey 
shore, by their lawlessness, and threats of retaliation, 
kept the pacific inhabitants in continual alarm. The 
American army, if it deserved the name, was literally 
scattered along the right bank of the Delawai-e ; Mr. 
Reed being with a small detachment of Philadelphia 
volunteers, under Cadwalader, at Bristol. 

Family tradition has described the anxious hours 
passed by the sorrowing group at Evesham. It con- 
sisted of Mrs. Reed, who had recently been confined, 
and was in feeble health, her three children, an aged 
mother, and a female friend, also a soldier's wife : the 
only male attendant being a boy of fourteen or fifteen 
years of age. If the enemy were to make a sudden 
advance, they would be entirely cut off from the ordi- 
nary avenues of escape ; and precautions were taken to 
avoid this risk. The wagon was ready, to be driven by 
the boy we have spoken of, and the plan was matured, 
if they failed to get over the river at Dunk's or Cooper's 
Ferry, to cross lower down, near Salem, and push on to 
the westward settlements. The wives and children of 
American patriot-soldiers thought themselves safer on 
the perilous edge of an Indian wilderness, than in the 
neighborhood of the soldiers who, commanded by no- 
blemen — by "men of honor and cavaliers," for such, 
according to all heraldry, were the Howes and Corn- 
wallises, the Percies and Rawdons of that day — were 
sent by a gracious monarch to lay waste this land. 
The English campaigning of our Revolution — and no 



ESTHER REED. 45 

part of it more so than this — is the daikest among the 
dark stains that disfigure the history of the eighteenth 
century ; and if ever there be a ground for hereditary 
animosity, we have it in the fresh record of the outrages 
which the military arm of Great Britain committed on 
this soil. The transplanted sentimentalism which now- 
a-days calls George III. a wise and great monarch, is 
absolute treason to America. There was in the one 
Colony of New Jersey, and in a single year, blood 
enough shed, and misery enough produced, to outweigh 
all the spurious merits which his admirers can pre- 
tend to claim. And let such for ever be the judgment 
of American history. 

It is worth a moment's meditation to pause and think 
of the sharp contrasts in our heroine's life. The short in- 
terval of less than six years had changed her not merely 
to womanhood, but to womanhood with extraordinary 
trials. Her youth was passed in scenes of peaceful 
prosperity, with no greater anxiety than for a distant 
lover, and with all the comforts which independence 
and social position could supply. She had crossed the 
ocean a bride, content to follow the fortunes of her 
young husband, though she little dreamed what they 
were to be. She had become a mother ; and, while 
watching by the cradle of her infants, had seen her 
household broken up by war in its worst form — the in- 
ternecine conflict of brothers in arms against each other 
— her husband called away to scenes of bloody peril, and 
forced, herself, to seek uncertain refuge in a wilderness. 
She too, let it be remembered, was a native-born Eng- 



46 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

lishwoman, with all the loyal sentiments that beat by 
instinct in an Englishwoman's heart — reverence for the 
throne, the monarch, and for all the complex institutions 
which hedge that mysterious oracular thing called the 
British Constitution. " God save the king," was neither 
then, nor is it now, a formal prayer on the lips of a 
British maiden. Coming to America, all this was 
changed. Loyalty was a badge of crime. The king's 
friends were her husband's and her new country's 
worst enemies. That which, in the parks of London, 
or at the Horse-Guards, she had admired as the holiday 
pageantry of war, had become the fearful apparatus of 
savage hostility. She, an Englishwoman, was a fugi- 
tive from the brutality of English soldiers. Her des- 
tiny, her fortunes, and more than all, her thoughts, 
and hopes, and wishes, were changed ; and happy 
was it for her husband that they were changed com- 
pletely and thoroughly, and that her faith to household 
loyalty was exclusive. 

Hers it was, renouncing all other allegiance — 

•' In war or peace, in sickness, or in health, 
In trouble and in danger, and distress, 
Through time and through eternity, to love." 

"I have received," she writes, in June, 1777, to her 
husband, " both my friend's letters. They have contri- 
buted to raise my spirits, which, though low enough, 
are better than when you parted with me. The reflec- 
tion how much I pain you by my want of resolution 
and the double distress I occasion you, when I ough 



ESTHER REED. 47 

to make your duty as light as possible, would tend to 
depress my spirits, did I not consider that the best and 
only amends is, to endeavor to resume my cheerfulness, 
and regain my usual spirits. I wish you to know, my 
dearest friend, that I have done this as much as possible, 
and beg you to free your mind from every care on this 
head." 

But to return to the narrative — interrupted, naturally, 
by thoughts like these. The reverses which the British 
army met at Trenton and Princeton, with the details 
of which every one is presumed to be familiar, saved 
that part of New Jersey where Mrs. Reed and her 
family resided, from further danger ; and on the retreat 
of the enemy, and the consequent relief of Philadelphia 
from further alarm, she returned to her home. She 
returned there with pride as well as contentment ; 
for her husband, inexperienced soldier as he was, had 
earned military fame of no slight eminence. He had 
been in nearly every action, and always distinguished, 
Washington had, on all occasions, and at last in an 
especial manner, peculiarly honored him. The patriots 
of Philadelphia hailed him back among them ; and the 
wife's smile of welcome was not less bright because 
she looked with pride upon her husband. 

Brief, however, was the new period of repose. The 
English generals, deeply mortified at their discomfiture 
in New Jersey, resolved on a new and more elaborate 
attempt on Philadelphia ; and in July, 1777, set sail with 
the most complete equipment they had yet been able to 
prepare, for the capes of the Chesapeake. On the land- 



48 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

ing of the British army at the head of Elk, and during 
the military movements that followed, Mrs. Reed was 
at Norristown, and there remained, her husband having 
again joined the army, till after the battle of Brandy- 
wine, when she and her children were removed first to 
Burlington, and thence to Flemington. Mr. Reed's 
hurried letters show the imminent danger that even 
women and children ran in those days of confusion. 
" It is quite uncertain," he writes on 14th September, 
1777, "which way the progress of the British army 
may point. Upon their usual plan of movement, they 
will cross, or endeavor to cross, the Schuylkill, some- 
where near my house ; in which case I shall be very 
dangerously situated. If you could possibly spare Cato, 
with your light wagon, to be with me to assist in get- 
ting off if there should be necessity, I shall be very 
glad. I have but few things beside the women and 
children ; but yet, upon a push, one wagon and two 
horses would be too little." Mrs. Reed's letters show 
her agonized condition, alarmed as she was, at the con- 
tinual and peculiar risk her husband was running. A 
little later (in February, 1778), Mrs. Reed says, in writ- 
ing to a dear female friend : " This season which used 
to be so long and tedious, has, to me, been swift, and 
no sooner come than nearly gone. Not from the plea- 
sures it has brought, but the fears of what is to come ; 
and, indeed, on many accounts, winter has become the 
only season of peace and safety. Returning spring 
will, I fear, bring a return of bloodshed and destruction 
to our country. That it must do so to this part of it, 



ESTHER REED. 



49 



seems unavoidable ; and how much of the distress we 
may feel before we are able to move from it, I am un- 
able to say. I sometimes fear a great deal. It has 
already become too dangerous for Mr. Reed to be at 
home more than one day at a time, and that seldom and 
uncertain. Indeed, I am easiest when he is from home, 
as his being here brings danger with it. There are so 
many disaffected to the cause of their country, that 
they lie in wait for those who are active ; but I trust 
that the same kind presiding Power which has preserv- 
ed him from the hands of his enemies, will still do it." 

Nor were her fears unreasonable. The neighborhood 
of Philadelphia, after it fell into the hands of the enemy, 
was infested by gangs of armed loyalists, who threatened 
the safety of every patriot whom they encountered. 
Tempted by the hard money which the British promised 
them, they dared any danger, and were willing to 
commit any enormity. It was these very ruffians, and 
their wily abettors, for whom afterwards so much false 
sympathy was invoked. Mr. Reed and his family, 
though much exposed, happily escaped these dangers. 

During the military operations of the Autumn of 1777, 
Mr. Reed was again attached as a volunteer to Wash- 
ington's staff, and during the winter that followed — the 
worst that America's soldiers saw — he was at, or in the 
immediate neighborhood, of Valley Forge, as one of a 
committee of Congress, of which body he had some time 
before been chosen a member. Mrs. Reed with her 
mother and her little family took refuge at Flemington, 
in the upper part of New Jersey. She remained there 
3 



50 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

till after the evacuation of Philadelphia and the battle 
of Monmouth, in June, 1778. 

While thus separated from her husband, and residing 
at Flemington, new domestic misfortune fell on her, in 
the death of one of her children by small- pox. How 
like an affectionate heart-stricken mother is the following 
passage, from a letter written at that time. Though it has 
no peculiar beauty of style, there is a touching gen- 
uineness which every reader — at least those who know 
a mother's heart under such affliction — will appreciate. 

" Surely," says she, " my affliction has had its aggra- 
vation, and I cannot help reflecting on my neglect of 
my dear lost child. For thoughtful and attentive to my 
own situation, I did not take the necessary precaution 
to prevent that fatal disorder when it was in my power. 
Sui'ely I ought to take blame to myself. I would not 
do it to aggravate my sorrow, but to learn a lesson of 
humility, and more caution and prudence in future. 
Would to God I could learn every lesson intended by 
the stroke. 1 think sometimes of my loss with com- 
posure, acknowledging the wisdom, right, and even the 
kindness of the dispensation. Again I feel it overcome 
me, and strike the very bottom of my heart, and tell me 
the work is not yet finished." 

Nor was it finished, though in a sense different from 
what she apprehended. Her children were spared, but 
her own short span of life was nearly run. Trial and 
perplexity and separation from home and husband 
were doing their work. Mrs. Reed returned to Phila- 
delphia, the seat of actual warfare being for ever removed, 



ESTHER REED. 51 

to apparent comfort and high social position. In the 
fall of 1778, Mr. Reed was elected President, or in the 
language of our day, Governor of Pennsylvania. His 
administration, its difficulties and ultimate success 
belong to the history of the country, and have been 
elsewhere illustrated. It was from first to last a period of 
intense political excitement, and Mr. Reed was the high 
target at which the sharp and venomous shafts of party 
virulence were chiefly shot. 

The suppressed poison of loyalism mingled with the 
ferocity of ordinary political animosity, and the scene 
was in every respect discreditable to all concerned. 
Slander of every sort was freely propagated. Personal 
violence was threatened. Gentlemen went armed in 
the streets of Philadelphia. Folly on one hand and 
fanaticism on the other, put in jeopardy the lives of 
many distinguished citizens, in October, 1779, and 
Mr. Reed by his energy and discretion saved them. 
There is extant a letter from his wife, written to a friend, 
on the day of what is well known in Philadelphia, as 
the Fort Wilson riot, dated at Germantown, which 
shows her fears for her husband's safety were not less 
reasonable, when he was exposed to the fury of an 
excited populace, than to the legitimate hostility of an 
enemy on the field of battle : 

" Dear Sir : — I would not take a moment of your time 
to tell you the distress and anxiety I feel, but only to beg 
you to let me know in what state things are, and what is 
likely to be the consequence. I write not to Mr. Reed 
because I know he is not in a situation to attend to me. 



52 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

I conjure you by the friendship you have for Mr. Reed, 
don't leave him. — E. R." 

And throughout this scene of varied perplexity, when 
the heart of the statesman was oppressed by trouble 
without — disappointment, ingratitude — all that makes 
a politician's life so wretched, he was sure to find his 
home happy, his wife smiling and contented, with no 
visible sorrow to impair her welcome, and no murmur to 
break the melody of domestic joy. It sustained him to 
the end. This was humble, homely heroism, but it did 
its good work in cheering and sustaining a spirit that 
might otherwise have broken. Let those disparage it 
who have never had the solace which such companion- 
ship affords, or who never have known the bitter sorrow 
of its loss. 

In May, 1780, Mrs. Reed's youngest son was born. It 
was of him, that Washington, a month later wrote, "I 
warmly thank you for calling the young Christian by 
my name," and it was he who more than thirty years 
afterwards, died in the service of his country,* not less 
gloriously because his was not a death of triumph. It 
was in the fall of this year, that the ladies of Philadel- 
phia united in their remarkable and generous contribu- 
tion for the relief of the suffering soldiers, by supplying 
them with clothing. Mrs. Reed was placed, by their 
united suffrage, at the head of this association. The 

* George Washington Reed, a Commander in the U S. Navy, died a 
prisoner of war in Jamaica, in 1813. He refused a parole, because un- 
wi'ling to leave his crew in a pestilential climate; and himself 
perished. 



ESTHER REED. 53 

French Secretary of Legation, M. de Marbois, in a letter 
that has been published, tells her she is called to the office 
as "the best patriot, the most zealous and active, and the 
most attached to the interests of her country." Notwith- 
standing the feeble state of her health, Mrs. Reed entered 
upon her duties with great animation. The work was 
congenial to her feelings. It was charity in its genuine 
form and from its purest source — the voluntary out- 
pouring from the heart. It was not stimulated by 
the excitements of our day — neither fancy fairs, nor 
bazaars ; but the American women met, and seeing the 
necessity that asked interposition, relieved it. They 
solicited money and other contributions directly, and 
for a precise and avowed object. They labored with 
their needles and sacrificed their trinkets and jewelry. 
The result was very remarkable. The aggregate 
amount of contributions in the City and County of 
Philadelphia, was not less than 7,500 dollars, specie; 
much of it, too, paid in hard money, at a time of the 
greatest appreciation. "All ranks of society," says 
President Reed's biographer, " seem to have joined in 
the liberal effort, from Phillis, the colored woman, with 
her humble seven shillings and six pence, to the Mar- 
chioness de La Fayette, who contributed one hundred 
guineas in specie, and the Countess de Luzerne, who 
gave six thousand dollars in continental paper." La Fay- 
ette's gentlemanly letter to Mrs. Reed is worth preserv- 
ing. 



54 



WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 



Head Quarters, June the 25th, 1780. 
Madam, 

In admiring the new resolution, in which the fair ones of 
Philadelphia have taken the lead, I am induced to feel for those 
American ladies, who being out of the Continent cannot participate 
in this patriotic measure. I know of one who, heartily wishing 
for a personal acquaintance with the ladies of America, would 
feel particularly happy to he admitted among them on the present 
occasion. Without presuming to break in upon the rules of your 
respected association may I most humbly present myself as her 
ambassador to the confederate ladies, and solicit in her name that 
Mrs. President be pleased to accept of her offering. 

With the highest respect, I have the honor to be, 

Madam, your most obedient servant, 

La Fayettb. 

Mrs. Reed's correspondence with the Commander-in- 
chief on the subject of the mode of administering relief 
to the poor soldiers, has been already published,* and is 
very creditable to both parties. Her letters are marked 
by business-like intelligence and sound feminine common 
sense, on subjects of which as a secluded women she 
could have personally no previous knowledge, and 
Washington, as has been truly observed, "writes as 
judiciously on the humble topic of soldier's shirts, as on 
the plan of a campaign or the subsistence of an army." 

All this time, it must be born in mind, it was a feeble, 
delicate woman, who was thus writing and laboring, 
her husband again away from her with the army, and 
her family cares and anxieties daily multiplying. She 

* Life and Correspondence of President Reed. 



ESTHER REED. 55 

writes from her country residence on the banks of 
Schuylkill, as late as the 22d of August, 1780: "I am 
most anxious to get to town, because here I can do 
little for the soldiers." But the body and the heroic spirit 
were alike overtasked, and in the early part of the next 
month, alarming disease developed itself, and soon ran 
its fatal course. On the 18th of September, 1780 — her 
aged mother, her husband and little children, the oldest 
ten years old, mourning around her — she breathed her 
last at the early age of thirty -four. There was deep 
and honest sorrow in Philadelphia, when the news was 
circulated that Mrs. Reed was dead. It stilled for a 
moment the violence of party spirit. All classes united 
in a hearty tribute to her memory. 

Nor is it inappropriate in closing this brief memoir, 
to notice a coincidence in local history ; a contrast in 
the career and fate of two women of these times, which 
is strongly picturesque. 

It was on the 25th of September, 1780, seven days 
after Mrs. Reed was carried to her honored grave, and 
followed thither by crowds of her own and her husband's 
friends, that the wife of Benedict Arnold, a native born 
Philadelphia woman, was stunned by the news of her 
husband's detected treachery and dishonor. Let those 
who doubt the paramount duty of every man and every 
woman, too, to their country, and the sure destiny of all 
who are false to it, meditate on this contrast. Mrs. 
Arnold had been a leader of what is called fashion, in 
her native city, belonging to the spurious aristocracy 
of a provincial town — a woman of beauty and accomplish- 



56 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

ment and rank. Her connections were all thorough 
and sincere loyalists, and Arnold had won his way into 
a circle generally exclusive and intolerant by his known 
disaffection, and especially his insolent opposition to the 
local authorities, and to Mr. Reed as the chief executive 
magistrate. The aristocratic beauty smiled kindly on 
a lover who felt the same antipathies she had been 
taught to cherish. While Mrs. Reed and her friends 
were toiling to relieve the wants of the suffering soldiers 
— in June, July and August, 1780, Mrs. Arnold was 
communing with her husband, not in plans of treason, 
but in all his hatreds and discontents. He probably did 
not trust her with the whole of the perilous stuff that 
was fermenting in his heart ; for it was neither neces- 
sary nor safe to do so. But he knew her nature and 
habits of thought well enough to be sure that if success 
crowned his plan of treason, and if honors and rewards 
were earned, his wife would not frown, or reject them 
because they had been won by treachery. And he 
played his game out, boldly, resolutely, confidently. 
The patriot woman of Philadelphia sank into her grave, 
honored and lamented by those among whom so recently 
she had come a stranger. Her tomb, alongside of that 
of her husband, still stands on the soil of her country. 
The fugitive wife of an American traitor fled for ever 
from her home and native soil, and died abroad un- 
noticed, and by her husband's crime dishonored. She 
was lost in a traitor's ignominy. Such was then and 
such ever will be, the fate of all ivho betray a public 
and a patriot trust. 



III. 



CATHARINE SCHUYLER. 

The name of Philip Schuyler adds another to the 
list of distinguished men indebted largely to maternal 
guidance. To his mother, a woman of strong and culti- 
vated mind, he owed his early education and habits of 
business, with that steadfast integrity, which never 
faltered nor forsook him. His wife — the beloved com- 
panion of his maturer years — cherished his social virtues 
and added lustre to his fame. Those who shared his 
generous hospitality, or felt the charm of his polished 
manners, were ready to testify to the excellence of her 
whose gentle influence was always apparent. A brief 
notice of her is all that can here be offered. 

Catharine Schuyler was the only daughter of John 
Van Rensselaer, called Patroon of Greenbush, a patriot 
in the Revolutionary struggle, and noted for his hospitali- 
ty, and for his kindness and forbearance towards the 
tenants of his vast estates during the war. It cannot 
be doubted that the recent anti-rent struggles, which 
have almost convulsed the State of New York, can be 
traced to the amiable but injudicious indulgence of this 
great landholder and his immediate heirs. 

The qualities which in some cases shone in remarka- 
3* 



58 WOMEN OP THE REVOLUTION. 

ble acts, were constantly exercised by Mrs. Schuyler in 
the domestic sphere. At the head of a large family, 
her management was so perfect that the regularity with 
which all went on appeared spontaneous. Her life was 
devoted to the care of her children ; yet her friendships 
were warm and constant, and she found time for dis- 
pensing charities to the poor. Many families in poverty 
remember with gratitude the aid received from her; 
sometimes in the shape of a milch cow, or other article 
of use. She possessed great self-control, and as the 
mistress of a household, her prudence was blended with 
unvarying kindness. Her chief pleasure was in diffus- 
ing happiness in her home. 

The house in which the family resided, near Albany, 
was built by Mrs. Schuyler, while her husband was in 
England, in 1760 and 1761. It had, probably, been 
commenced previously. The ancient family mansion, 
large and highly ornamented in the Dutch taste, stood 
on the corner of State and Washington streets, in the 
city. It was taken down about the year 1800. It was 
a. place of resort for British officers and travellers of 
note in the French war. Fourteen French gentlemen, 
some of them officers who had been captured in 1758, 
were here entertained as prisoners on parole. They 
found it most agreeable to be in Schuyler's house, as 
he could converse with them in French ; and his kind- 
ness made them friends. In 1801, when Mrs. Schuyler, 
and some of her family visited Montreal and Quebec, 
they were received with grateful attention by the de- 
scendants of those gentlemen. 



CATHARINE SCHUYLER. 59 

Near Saratoga, the scene of General Schuyler's tri- 
umph, he had an elegant country-seat, which was de- 
stroyed by General Burgoyne. It was one of the most 
picturesque incidents of the war, that the captive Brit- 
ish general with his suite, should be received and enter- 
tained, after the surrender at Saratoga, by those whose 
property he had wantonly laid waste. The courtesy 
and kindness shown by General and Mrs. Schuyler to 
the late enemy, and their generous forgetfulness of their 
own losses, were sensibly felt and acknowledged. Ma- 
dame de Riedesel says their reception was not like that 
of enemies, but of mtimate friends. " All their actions 
proved, that at sight of the misfortunes of others, they 
quickly forgot their own." This delicacy and gene- 
rosity drew from Burgoyne the observation to General 
Schuyler; " You are too kind to me, who have done so 
much injury to you." The reply was characteristic of 
the noble-hearted victor : " Such is the fate of war ; let 
us not dwell on the subject." 

The Marquis de Chastellux mentions, that just pre- 
vious to this visit, General Schuyler being detained at 
Saratoga, where he had seen the ruins of his beautiful 
villa, wrote thence to his wife to make every prepara- 
tion for giving the best reception to Burgoyne and his 
suite. " The British commander was well received by 
Mrs. Schuyler, and lodged in the best apartment in the 
house. An excellent supper was served him in the 
evening, the honors of which were done with so much 
grace, that he was affected even to tears, and sai d, with 
a deep sigh, ' Indeed, this is doing too much for the 



60 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

man who has ravaged their lands, and burned then 
dwellings.' The next morning he was reminded of his 
misfortunes by an incident that would have amused 
any one else. His bed was prepared in a large room ; 
but as he had a numerous suite, or family, several mat- 
tresses were spread on the floor for some officers to 
sleep near him. Schuyler's second son, a little fellow 
about seven years old, very arch and forward, but very 
amiable, was running all the morning about the house. 
Opening the door of the saloon, he burst out a laughing 
on seeing all the English collected, and shut it after 
him, exclaiming, ' You are all my prisoners !' This in 
nocent cruelty rendered them more melancholy than 
before." 

Thus were even the miseries of war softened by Mrs. 
Schuyler's graceful courtesy; while the military renown 
won by her husband's illustrious services, was associ- 
ated with remembrances of disinterested kindness be- 
stowed in requital for injury. In reverse, her resolution 
and courage had been proved equal to the emergency. 
When the continental army was retreating from Fort 
Edward before Burgoyne, Mrs. Schuyler went up her- 
self, in her chariot from Albany to Saratoga, to see to 
the removal of her furniture. While there, she received 
directions from the General, to set fire, with her own 
hand, to his extensive fields of wheat, and to request 
his tenants, and others, to do the same, rather than 
suffer them to be reaped by the enemy. The injunc- 
tion shows the soldier's confidence in her spirit, firm- 
ness, and patriotism. 



CATHARINE SCHUYLER. 61 

Many of the women of this family appear lo have 
been remarkable for strong intellect and clear judgment. 
The Mrs. Schuyler described in Mrs. Grant's memoirs, 
was a venerated relative of the General. He lost his 
admirable wife in 1803. Her departure left his last 
years desolate, and saddened many hearts in which yet 
lives the memory of her bright virtues. One of her 
daughters, Mrs. Alexander Hamilton, now resides in 
Washington. D. C., and another at Oswego. 



IV. 



CATHARINE GREENE. 

Catharine Littlefield, the eldest daughter of John 
Littlefield and Phebe Ray, was born in New Shoreham, 
on Block Island, 1753. When very young, she came 
with her sister to reside in the family of Governor 
Greene, of Warwick, a lineal descendant of the founder 
of the family, whose wife was her aunt. The house in 
which they lived, twelve or fourteen miles south of 
Providence, is still standing. It is situated on a hill, 
which commands a view of the whole of Narragansett Bay, 
with its islands. Mount Hope, associated with King 
Philip, and the Indian traditions, fills the back-ground, 
rising slightly above the line of the horizon. It was 
here that Miss Littlefield's happy girlhood was passed ; 
and it was here also that she first knew Nathanael 
Greene. She often went on a visit to her family at 
Block Island. Nathanael would come there to see her ; 
and the time was spent by the young people in amuse- 
ments, particularly in riding and dancing, of which the 
future general was remarkably fond, notwithstanding 



CATHARINE GREENE. 63 

his father's efforts to whip out of him such idle propen- 
sities. He was not discouraged by the example of his 
fair companion from any of these outbreaks of youth- 
ful gaiety ; for the tradition of the country around, and 
the recollections of all who knew her, testify that there 
never lived a more joyous, frolicsome creature than 
" Kate Littlefield." In perscn, she was singularly lovely. 
Her figure was of the medium height, and light and 
graceful at this period, though in after years she was in- 
clined to embonpoint. Her eyes were gray, and her com- 
plexion fair; her features regular and animated. The 
facilities for female education being very limited at that 
period, Miss Littlefield enjoyed few advantages of early 
cultivation. She was not particularly fond of study, 
though she read the books that came in her way, and pro- 
fited by what she read. She possessed, moreover, a mar- 
vellous quickness of perception, and the faculty of com- 
prehending a subject with surprising readiness. Thus 
in conversation, she seemed to appreciate every thing 
said on almost any topic ; and frequently would as- 
tonish others by the ease with which her mind took 
hold of the ideas presented. She was at all times an 
intelligent listener. On one occasion, when the con- 
versation turned on botany, she looked over the books 
and collection of a Swedish botanist, making remarks 
from time to time which much interested him, and 
showed her an observer of no common intelligence. 
This extraordinary activity of mind, and tact in seizing 
on points, so as to apprehend almost intuitively, distin- 



64 WOMEN OP THE REVOLUTION 

guished her through life. It enabled her, without ap- 
parent mental effort, to apply the instruction conveyed 
in the books she read, to the practical affairs of life, 
and to enrich her varied conversation with the know- 
ledge gained from them, and her observation of the 
world. This power of rendering available her intellec- 
tual stores, combined with a retentive memory, a lively 
imagination, and great fluency in speech, rendered her 
one of the most brilliant and entertaining of women. 
When to these gifts was added the charm of rare 
beauty, it cannot excite wonder that the possessor of 
such attractions should fascinate all who approached 
her. 

How, when, or by what course of wooing, the youth- 
ful lover won the bright, volatile, coquettish maiden, 
cannot be ascertained ; but it is probable their attach- 
ment grew in the approving eyes of their relatives, and 
met with no obstacle till sealed by the matrimonial vow. 
The marriage took place July 20th, 1774, and the 
young couple removed to Coventry. Little, it is likely, 
did the fair Catharine dream of her future destiny as a 
soldier's wife; or that the broad-brimmed hat of her 
young husband covered brows that should one day be 
wreathed with the living laurels won by genius and pa- 
triotism. We have no means of knowing with how 
much interest she watched the over-clouding of the 
political horizon, or the dire advance of the necessity 
that drove the Colonies to armed resistance. But when 
her husband's decision was made, and he stood forth a 
determined patriot, separating himself from the ccmrnu- 



CATHARINE GREENE. 05 

nity in which he had been born and reared, by embrac- 
ing a military profession, his spirited wife did her part 
to aid and encourage him. The papers of the day fre- 
quently notice her presence, among other ladies, at head- 
quarters. Like Mrs. Washington, she passed the active 
season of the campaign at home. Hers was a new es- 
tablishment at Coventry, a village in Rhode Island, 
where her husband had erected a forge, and built himself 
what then passed for a princely house on the banks of 
one of those small streams which form so beautiful a 
feature in Rhode Island scenery. When the army be- 
fore Boston was innoculated for the small pox, she gave 
up her house for a hospital. She was there during the 
attack on Rhode Island ; and every cannon on the hard 
fought day which closed that memorable enterprise, 
must have awakened the echoes of those quiet hills. 
When the army went into winter quarters, she always 
set out to rejoin her husband, sharing cheerfully the nar- 
row quarters and hard fare of a camp. She partook of 
the privations of the dreary winter at Valley Forge, in 
that "darkest hour of the Revolution;" and it appears 
that, as at home, her gay spirit shed light around her 
even in such scenes, softening and enlivening the gloom 
which might have weighed many a bold heart into 
despondency. There are extant some interesting little 
notes of Kosciusko, in very imperfect English, which 
show her kindness to her husband's friends, and the 
pleasure she took in alleviating their sufferings. 

How much her society was prized by General Greene, 
and how impatiently he bore separation from her, may 



6G WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

be seen in his letters.* When about to start for the 
South, in October, 1780, he waits for her arrival to join 
him, expecting she will overtake him at camp, or in 
Philadelphia; and expresses the greatest anxiety that 
she should avoid the dangerous route by Peekskill. 
His fears for her safety at last impel him to request her 
«not to encounter the risk. Mr. Hughes, who knows 
the feelings of the anxious wife, detains the letters : and 
afterwards, confessing the unwarrantable liberty — for 
which he " deserved to appear before a court-martial" — 
says : " But if I do, I will plead Mrs. General Greene." 
Again he writes : " Give me leave to say that your lady, 
if possible, without injury to herself, must see you. My 
God! she will suffer a thousand times as much by a 
disappointment, as she can by going ten times the 
distance !" 

Notwithstanding her ardent wish to accompany the 
General, it seems that Mrs. Greene was prevented from 
doing so. Mrs. Washington writes to her from Mount 
Vernon, to say that General Greene was well, and 
had spent the evening at Mount Vernon, on his way 
to Richmond. General Weedon, in a letter to her, 
announces that the General had stopped for the night 
at his house in Richmond ; and invites Mrs. Greene, 
if she should come as far as Virginia, to quarter 
under his roof. A letter from the Commander-in-chief, 
written from New Windsor on the 15th of December* 

* The letters quoted or referred to in this sketch are from the MS. 
correspondence of General Greene, in the possession of his grandson, 
Prof. George \V. Greece, of Providence, R. I., late Consul at Rome. 



CATHALINE GREENE. 67 

encloses Mrs. Greene a letter from her husband, and 
offers to forward hers. 

"Mrs. Washington," he says, "who is just arrived at 
these my quarters, joins me in most cordial wishes for 
your every felicity, and regrets the want of your com- 
pany. Remember me to my namesake. Nat, I sup- 
pose, can handle a musket." 

The " namesake" alluded to, was the eldest son, who 
was afterwards drowned in the Savannah River. His 
mother never recovered her spirits after this shock. 

Mrs. Greene joined her husband in the South after 
the close of the active campaign of 1781, and remained 
with him till the end of the war, residing on the islands 
during the heats of summer, and the rest of the time at 
head-quarters. In the spring of 1783, she returned to 
the North where she remained till the General had com- 
pleted his arrangements for removing to the South. 
They then established themselves at Mulberry Grove, 
on a plantation which had been presented to Greene by 
the State of Georgia. 

Mrs. Greene's first impressions of southern life and 
manners are painted in lively colors in her letters to 
northern friends. The following passage is from one to 
Miss Flagg : — 

"If you expect to be an inhabitant of this country, 
you must not think to sit down with your netting pins; 
but on the contrary, employ half your time at the toilet, 
one quarter to paying and receiving visits ; the other 
quarter to scolding servants, with a hard thump every 
now and then over the head ; or singing, dancing, read 



68 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

ing, writing, or saying your prayers. The lattei is here 
quite a phenomenon; but you need not tell how you 
employ your time." 

The letters of General Greene to his wife breathe the 
most entire confidence and affection. His respect for 
her judgment and good sense is shown in the freedom 
with which he expresses his thoughts and unfolds his 
hopes and plans. He evidently looked to her for sup- 
port and sympathy in all his cares and troubles. His 
lighter hours, even in absence, were shared with her. 
Sometimes his youthful gaiety breaks forth in his de- 
scriptions of adventures and persons encountered in his 
travels. And regard for his interests was plainly above 
every other thought in the mind of his wife. After his 
death, she writes to Mr. Wadsworth, his executor, Sep- 
tember 19th, 1788, "I consider 

debts of honor, and would starve, rather than they 
should not be paid." " I am a woman — unaccus- 
tomed to any thing but the trifling business of a family; 
yet my exertions may effect something. If they do not, 
and if I [sacrifice] my life in the cause of my children, 
I shall but do my duty, and follow the example of my 
illustrious husband." 

It was while on a visit to Savannah with his wife, 
that General Greene was seized with the disease which 
in a few days closed his brilliant career. They were 
then preparing to return and pass the summer at the 
North. The weight of care that fell on Mrs. Greene in 
consequence of this event, would have crushed an or- 
dinary mind; but she struggled nobly through it all. 



CATHARINE GREENE. bt> 

Some years afterwards, thinking that some lands she 
owned on Cumberland Island offered greater advantages 
than Mulberry Grove, she removed there with her 
family; dividing her time between her household duties 
and the cares of an extensive hospitality; occasionally 
visiting the North in the summer, but continuing to look 
upon the South as her home. It was while she lived at 
Mulberry Grove, that she became instrumental in intro- 
ducing to the world an invention which has covered 
with wealth the fields of the South. 

Late in 1792, her sympathies were enlisted in behalf 
of a young man, a native of Massachusetts, who having 
come to Georgia to take the place of private teacher in 
a gentleman's family, had been disappointed in obtain- 
ing the situation, and found himself without friends or 
resources in a strange land. Mrs. Greene and her fami- 
ly treated him with great kindness. He was invited to 
make his home in her house while he pursued the study of 
the law, to which he had determined to devote himself. 
According to the account of some, his attention was at- 
tracted to the cotton plant growing in the garden, and 
to Mr. Miller's observation that cotton of that sort could 
be cultivated as a staple, provided some method could 
be found of cleaning it from the seed. According to 
others, a party of gentlemen on a visit to the family, 
spoke of the want of an effective machine for separating 
'he cotton from the seed, without which, it was allowed, 
there could be no profitable cultivation of this more pro- 
ductive species. Mrs. Greene spoke of the mechanical 
genius of her young protege ; introduced him to the 



70 WOMEN OP THE REVOLUTION. 

company, and showed little specimens of his skill, in tam- 
bour frames and articles for the children. Eli Whitney, 
for that was the name of the young student, was strong- 
ly impressed with the conversation. He examined the 
cotton, and communicated his plans to Mrs. Greene and 
Mr. Miller, who gave him warm encouragement. A 
basement room, into which no one else was admitted, 
was appropriated for his work. He labored day after 
day, making the necessary tools ; and persevering with 
unwearied industry. By spring the cotton gin was 
completed, and exhibited to the wonder and delight of 
planters invited from different parts of Georgia to wit- 
ness its successful operation. 

Mr. Phineas Miller entered into an agreement with 
Whitney, to bear the expense of maturing the invention, 
and to divide the future profits. He was a man of re- 
markably active and cultivated mind. Mrs. Greene 
married him some time after the death of General 
Greene. She survived him several years — dying just 
before the close of the late war with England. Her re- 
mains rest in the family burial-ground at Cumberland 
Island, where but a few years afterwards, the body of 
one of her husband's best officers and warmest friends 
— the gallant Lee — was brought to moulder by her side. 
She left four children by her first marriage — three 
daughters and one son — of whom the son and second 
daughter are still living. 

Mrs. Miller related to a lady residing in New 
York, the incident of Colonel Aaron Burr's requesting 
permission to stop at her house, when he came South, 



CATHARINE GREENE. 71 

after his fatal duel with General Hamilton. She would 
not refuse the demand upon her hospitality, but his vic- 
tim had been her friend; and she could not receive as a 
guest, one whose hands were crimsoned with his blood. 
She gave Burr permission to remain ; but at the same time 
ordered her carriage, and quitted her house ; returning 
as soon as he had taken his departure. This little 
anecdote is strongly illustrative of her impulsive and 
generous character. The lady who mentioned it to me 
had herself experienced, in time of the illness of one dear 
to her, Mrs. Miller's sympathy and active kindness ; and 
described her manners as gentle, frank and winning. 
Her praise, were I at liberty to, mention her name, 
would do the highest honor to its object. 

The descendants of Mrs. Greene regard her with af- 
fectionate reverence. She was a loved and honored 
wife, and a tender yet judicious mother. Her discipline 
was remarkably strict, and none of her children ever 
thought of disobeying her. Yet she would sometimes 
join with child-like merriment in their sports. A lady 
now living in Providence states, that one day, after the 
close of the war, passing General Greene's house in 
Newport, she saw both him and his wife playing "puss 
in the corner," with the children. 

She loved a jest, and sometimes too, a hearty laugh 
upon her friends. On one occasion, while living at 
Newport after the close of the war, she disguised her- 
self like an old beggar-woman, so effectually that she 
w r as not recognized even by her brother-in-law. In this 
dress she went round to the houses of her friends to ask 



72 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

charity — telling a piteous tale of losses and sufferings. 
At one house they were at the card-table ; and one of 
her most intimate friends, as she ordered her off, desired 
the servant to look well as she went out and see that she 
did not steal something from the entry. At another, 
the master of the house was just sitting down to supper; 
and though an old acquaintance and a shrewd man, was 
not only deceived, but so moved by her story, that he 
gave her the loaf he was on the point of cutting for him- 
self. When she had sufficiently amused herself with 
this practical test of her friends' charity, she took off her 
disguise, and indulged her merriment at their expense ; 
reminding them that with the exception of the loaf, she 
had been turned away without any experience of their 
liberality. 

Mrs. Greene's power of fascination, described as ab- 
solutely irresistible, may be illustrated by a little anec- 
dote. A lady, who is still living, had heard much of 
her, and resolved — as young ladies sometimes will when 
they hear too much about a person — that she would not 
like her. One day she chanced to be on a visit at the 
late Colonel Ward's in New York, where she saw a 
lady — dressed completely in black, even to the head 
dress, which was drawn close under the throat — who 
from her seat on the sofa was holding the whole com- 
pany in breathless attention to the lively anecdotes of 
the war, and the brilliant sketches of character, which 
she was drawing so skillfully and in a tone so winning, 
that it was impossible not to listen to her. Still the 
young girl's resolution was not shaken. She might be 



CATHARINE GREENE. 73 

compelled to admire, but the liking depended on herself; 
and she took a seat at the opposite side of the room. 
How long she remained there she was never able to tell ; 
but her first consciousness was of being seated on a 
stool at the old lady's feet, .eaning upon her knee, and 
looking up in her face as confidingly as if she had been 
her own mother. 



V- 



MERCY WARREN. 

The name of Mercy Warren belongs to American 
history. In the influence she exercised, she was perhaps 
the most remarkable woman who lived at the Revolu- 
tionary period. She was the third child of Colonel 
James Otis, of Barnstable, in the old colony of Plymouth; 
and was born there, September 25th, 1728.* The Otis 
family came to the country in 1630 or 1640, and settled 
first in Hingham. 

The youth of Miss Otis was passed in the retirement 
of her home, in a routine of domestic employments, and 
the duties devolving upon her as the eldest daughter in 
a family of high respectability. Her love of reading 
was early manifested ; and such was her economy of 
time, that, never neglecting her domestic cares or the 
duties of hospitality, she found leisure not only to 
improve her mind by careful study, but for various 
works of female ingenuity. A card-table is preserved 
by one of her descendants in Quincy, as a monument 
of her taste and industry. The design was her own, 

* This date, with that of her death, is taker from the entries in 
the family Bible at Plymouth 



MFRCY WARREN. 75 

the patterns being obtained by gathering and pressing 
flowers from the gardens and fields. These are copied 
in worsted work, and form one of the most curious and 
beautiful specimens to be found in the country. 

At that period, the opportunities for female education 
were extremely limited, but perhaps the more prized on 
that account. Miss Otis gained nothing from schools. 
Her only assistant, in the intellectual culture of her 
earlier years, was the Rev. Jonathan Russell, the minis- 
ter of the parish, from whose library she was supplied 
with books, and by whose counsels her tastes were in a 
measure formed. It was from reading, in accordance 
with his advice, Raleigh's " History of the World," that 
her attention was particularly directed to history, the 
branch of literature to which she afterwards devoted 
herself. In later years, her brother James, who was 
himself an excellent scholar, became her adviser and 
companion in literary pursuits. There existed between 
them a strong attachment, which nothing ever impaired. 
Even in the wildest moods of that insanity, with which, 
late in life the great patriot was afflicted, her voice had 
power to calm him, when all else was without effect. 

These favorite employments of reading, drawing and 
needle work, formed the recreation of a quiet life, in the 
home which Miss Otis rarely quitted. A visit to 
Boston, at the time of her brother's graduation at Har- 
vard College, in 1743, was the occasion of her first 
absence for any length of time. 

When about twenty-six, she became the wife of 
James Warren, then a merchant of Plymouth, Massa- 



76 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

chusetts. In him she found a partner of congenial mind. 
Her new avocations and cares were not allowed to 
impair the love of literature which had been the delight 
of her youth. It was while residing occasionally for a 
few weeks with her husband and children on a farm 
a few miles from the village, to which she gave the 
name of " Clifford," that most of her poetical produc- 
tions were written. On the other hand, attached as 
she was to these pursuits, she never permitted them to 
interfere with household duties, or the attention of a 
devoted mother to her children. Her attainments fitted 
her to give them valuable instruction ; and the lessons 
of her loving spirit of wisdom were not lost. 

With this fondness for historical studies, and the 
companionship of such a brother and husband, it is not 
strange that the active and powerful intellect of Mrs. 
Warren should become engaged with interest in political 
affairs. These were now assuming an aspect that 
engrossed universal attention. Decision and action 
were called for on the part of those inclined to one or 
the other side. How warmly Mrs. Warren espoused 
the cause of her country — how deeply her feelings were 
enlisted — appears in her letters. Her correspondence 
with the great spirits of that era, if published, would 
form a most valuable contribution to our historical 
literature. This rich correspondence has been preserved 
by her descendants ; and affords the material for the 
present memoir. It includes letters, besides those from 
members of her own family, from Samuel and John 
Adams, Jefferson, Di :kinson, Gerry, Knox and others 



MERCY WARREN. 77 

These men asked her opinion in political matteis, and 
acknowledged the excellence of her judgment. Refer- 
ring to some of her observations on the critical state of 
affairs after the war, General Knox writes : — " I should 
be happy, Madam, to receive your communications 
from time to time, particularly on the subject enlarged 
on in this letter. Your sentiments shall remain with 
me." Mrs. Warren herself thus writes to Mr. Adams, 
before the meeting of the first Congress : 

" Though you have condescended to ask my senti- 
ments, in conjunction with those of a gentleman 
qualified both by his judgment and integrity, as well as 
his attachment to the interest of his country, to advise 
at this important crisis, yet I shall not be so presump- 
tuous as to offer any thing but my fervent wishes that 
the enemies of America may hereafter forever tremble 
at the w r isdom and firmness, the prudence and justice 
of the delegates deputed from our cities, as much as did 
the Phocians of old at the power of the Amphyctions 
of Greece. But if the Locrians should in time appear 
among you, I advise you to beware of choosing an 
ambitious Philip as your leader. Such a one might 
subvert the principles on which your institution is 
founded, abolish your order, and build up a monarchy 
on the ruins of the happy institution.* 

•Letter, July 14th, 1774. All the extracts from letters in this 
memoir, are from the manuscript correspondence of Mrs. Warren, in 
the possession of her daughter-in-law, who resides at Plymouth. This 
lady is herself a descendant of Governor Winslow, whose family intei 
married with the Warrens in the fourth and sixth generations. One of 
tiie curiosities of her parlor is an easy ch air belonging to Governor 



78 WOMEN CF THE REVOLUTION. 

Colonial difficulties, and the signs of the times, formed 
subjects of communication continually between Mrs 
Warren and her female friends. Mrs. Adams says to 
her, in 1773, " You, madam, are so sincere a lover of 
your country, and so hearty a mourner in all her mis- 
fortunes, that it will greatly aggravate your anxiety to 
hear how much she is now oppressed and insulted. To 
you, who have so thoroughly looked through the deeds 
of men, and developed the dark designs of a "Rapatio" 
soul, no action, however base or sordid, no measure, 
however cruel and villanous, will be matter of any sur- 
prise. The tea, that baneful weed, is arrived : great, 
and I hope effectual opposition, has been made to the 
landing." 

The friendship that existed between these two gifted 
women was truly beautiful and touching. Commenced 
m early youth, it continued unchanged through the 
vicissitudes of a long and eventful life — unshaken by 
troubles, unchilled by cares, unalienated by misunder- 
standing. Their thoughts were communicated to each 
other with perfect freedom and openness ; and they 
found in joy and sorrow, a solace, or an added pleasure, 
in each other's sympathy and affection. The sister of 
Abigail Adams, who married Mr. Shaw, was also 
warmly attached to Mrs. Warren. 

VVinslow, which was brought over in the Mayflower. The iron 
staples are still attached, by which it was fastened to the cabin flooi 
of the Pilgrim ship ; and its present covering is the dress of white 
brocade richly embroidered, worn by Mercy Warren on the day aftei 
her marriage. Some of the ancient china also remains ; several pieces 
one hundred and fifty years old, are of surpassing beauty. 



MERCY WARREN. 79 

The celebrated Mrs. Macauley was another of her 
favorite correspondents, though they were not person- 
ally acquainted till that lady's visit to New England. 
Mrs. Warren's letters to her describe the progress of 
the Revolutionary spirit. That written December 29th, 
1774, speaks forcibly of the aspect of things : 

" America stands armed with resolution and virtue ; 
but she still recoils at the idea of drawing the sword 
against the nation from whence she derived her origin. 
Yet Britain, like an unnatural parent, is ready to plunge 
her dagger into the bosom of her affectionate offspring. 
But may we not yet hope for more lenient measures ! 
You, madam, can easily delineate the characters of the 

new Parliament." 

# # # # # 

" The seeds of empire are sown in this new world : 
the ball rolls westward fast, and though we are daily 
threatened with the depredations of Britain with foreign 
auxiliaries, and the incursions of the savages, yet each 
city, from Nova Scotia to Georgia, has her Decii and 
her Fabii, ready to sacrifice their devoted lives to pre- 
serve inviolate, and to convey to their children the inhe- 
rent rights of men, conferred on all by the God of 
nature, and the privileges of Englishmen claimed by 
Americans from the sacred sanction of compacts." 

In the following year she writes : 

" I hinted that the sword was half drawn from the 
scabbard. Since that it has been unsheathed. * * 
Almost every tongue is calling on the justice of heaven 



80 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

to punish or disperse the disturbers of the peace, liberty, 
and happiness of their country." 

She says to John Adams : 

" I have my fears. Yet, notwithstanding the com- 
plicated difficulties that rise before us, there is no 
receding; and I should blush if in any instance the 
weak passions of my sex should damp the fortitude, 
the patriotism, and the manly resolution of yours. May 
nothing ever check that glorious spirit of freedom which 
inspires the patriot in the cabinet, and the hero in the 
field, with courage to maintain their righteous cause, and 
to endeavor to transmit the claim to posterity, even if 
they must seal the rich conveyance to their children 
with their own blood."* 

" The desk, the pews, and other incumbrances are 
taken down in the Old South (a church long venerated 
in the town), to make it convenient for the accommo- 
dation of General Burgoyne's light horse ; while the 
infamous Dr. Morrison, whose character I suppose you 
are acquainted with, reads prayers in the church in 
Brattle street to a set of banditti, who, after the rapines, 
robberies, and devastations of the week, dare — some of 
them — to lift up their sacrilegious hands, and bow before 
the altar of mercy. 

* * " I will breathe one wish more ; and that is 
for the restoration of peace — peace, I mean, on equit- 
able terms ; for pusillanimous and feeble as I am, I can- 

* Letter, August 2d, 1775 



MERCY WARREN. 81 

not wish to see the sword quietly put up in the scabbard, 
until justice is done to America,"* 

During the years that preceded the Revolution, and 
after its outbreak, Mrs. Warren's house appears to have 
been the resort of much company. As she herself 
says, "by the Plymouth fireside were many political 
plans originated, discussed, and digested." She re- 
minds Mr. Adams while he is in Europe, of his words 
once uttered in a moment of despondency, that " the 
dispute between Great Britain and America will not be 
settled till your sons and my sons are able to assist and 
negotiate with the different European courts." — " A 
lady replied, though perhaps not from prescience, but 
from presentiment or presumption, that you must do it 
yourself; that the work must be done immediately; 
and that she expected from you in the intervals of busi- 
ness, a pleasing narration of the different customs, man- 
ners, taste, genius, and policy of nations with whom, at 
present, we were little acquainted. You assented a 
compliance if the prediction took place." 

Although her home was in Plymouth, her place of 
residence was occasionally changed during the war 
At one time she lived in the house at Milton, which 
Governor Hutchinson had occupied. Wherever she 
was, the friends of America were always welcomed to 
the shelter of her roof, and the hospitalities of her 
table. In different passages of her letters to Mr 
Adams, the officers with whom she became acquainted 
are described. The following extract is interesting: 
* Letter, October, 1775. 
4* 



82 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

"The Generals Washington, Lee, and Gates, with 
several other distinguished officers from head-quarters, 
dined with us (at Watertown) three days since. The 
first of these I think one of the most amiable and 
accomplished gentlemen, both in person, mind, and 
manners, that I have met with. The second, whom 1 
never saw before, I think plain in his person to a de- 
gree of ugliness, careless even to unpoliteness — his 
garb ordinary, his voice rough, his manners rather 
morose; yet sensible, learned, judicious, and penetrat- 
ing: a considerable traveller, agreeable in his narra- 
tions, and a zealous, indefatigable friend to the Ameri- 
can cause; but much more from a love of freedom, and 
an impartial sense of the inherent rights of mankind at 
large, than from any attachment or disgust to particular 
persons or countries. The last is a brave soldier, a high 
republican, a sensible companion, an honest man, of un- 
affected manners and easy deportment." 
She speaks thus of the Count D'Estaing : 
"While the errand on which the Count D'Estaing 
came out excites our gratitude, the dignity of his de- 
portment commands respect ; and his reserved affability, 
if I may so express it, heightens our esteem." 
And La Fayette is praised in laconic fashion : 
" Penetrating, active, sensible, and judicious, he ac- 
quits himself with the highest applause in the public eye, 
while the politeness of his manners, and the sociability 
of his temper, insure his welcome at every hospitable 
board." 

Every page from the pen of Mrs Warren, is remark- 



MKRCV WARREN. 83 

able for clearness and vigor of thought. Thus her style 
was not vitiated by the artificial tastes of the day ; yet 
her expression is often studiously elaborated, in accord- 
ance with the prevalent fashion. This is the case in 
her letters written with most care ; while in others her 
ardent spirit pours out its feelings with irrepressible 
energy, portraying itself in the genuine and simple lan- 
guage of emotion. The following passage perhaps did 
not then appear studied, even in a familiar letter : 

" The late convulsions are only the natural struggles 
which ensue when the genius of liberty arises to assert 
her rights in opposition to the ghost of tyranny. I 
doubt not this fell form will ere long be driven from 
our land : then may the western skies behold virtue 
(which is generally the attendant of freedom) seated on 
a throne of peace, where may she ever preside over the 
rising Commonwealth of America."* 

About this time, as it appears, was published " The 
Group" — a satirical dramatic piece in two Acts, in which 
many of the leading tory characters of the day were 
humorously introduced. A strong political influence 
has been ascribed to this and other satirical poems from 
her pen. It is in allusion to this that Mrs. Adams 
speaks of "a Rapatio soul" — Governor Hutchinson 
being thus designated. The following description is 
applied to him : 

•« But mark the traitor — his high crime glossed o'er 
Conceals the tender feelings of the man, 

* Letter to Mrs. Lathrop, 1775. 



84 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

The social ties that bind the human heart ; 

He strikes a bargain with his country's foes, 

And joins to wrap America in flames. 

Yet with feigned pity, and Satanic grin, 

As if more deep to fix the keen insult, 

Or make his life a farce still more compete, 

He sends a groan across the broad Atlantic, 

And with a phiz of crocodilian stamp, 

Can weep, and wreathe, still hoping to deceive ; 

He cries — the gathering clouds hang thick about her, 

But laughs within ; then sobs — 

Alas, my country !" 

Act II. Scene 1. 

With the classical allusions then common, she men- 
tions 

" India's poisonous weed, 



Long since a sacrifice to Thetis made, 
A rich regale. Now all the watery dames 
May snuff souchong, and sip in flowing bowls 
The higher flavored choice Hysonian stream, 
And leave their nectar to old Homer's gods." 

It may be imagined that such bold and keen satire 
would produce a marked sensation, and^be severely felt 
by the persons against whom it was aimed. The author 
herself seems to have had some misgivings, fearing lest 
her patriotic feelings should have carried her too far. 
Mrs. Adams thus re-assures her : 

" I observe my friend is laboring under apprehension, 
lest the severity with which a certain Group was drawn, 
was incompatible with that benevolence which ought 
always to be predominant in a female character. 



MERCY WARREN. 85 

Though ' an eagle's talon asks an eagle's eye/ and 
satire in the hands of some is a very dangerous wea- 
pon ; yet when it is so happily blended with benevo- 
lence, and is awakened only by the love of virtue and 
abhorrence of vice — when truth is unavoidably pre- 
served, and ridiculous and vicious actions are alone the 
subject, it is so far from blamable that it is certainly 
meritorious." 

Mrs. Warren employed much of her leisure with her 
pen. She kept a faithful record of occurrences during 
the dark days of her country's affliction, through times 
that engaged the attention both of the philosopher and 
the politician. She did this with the design of trans- 
mitting to posterity a faithful portraiture of the most 
distinguished characters of the day. 

Her intention was fulfilled in her history of the war. 
Her poetical compositions, afterwards collected and de- 
dicated to General Washington, were the amusement 
of solitude, when many of her friends were actively 
engaged in the field or cabinet. Some of them con- 
tain allusions to bodily sufferings, her health being far 
from robust. The tragedies, " The Sack of Rome," 
and '•' The Ladies of Castile," are more remarkable for 
patriotic sentiment than dramatic merit. The verse is 
smooth and flowing, and the language poetical, but 
often wanting in the simplicity essential to true pathos. 
An interest deeper than that of the story is awakened 
by the application of many passages to the circum- 
stances of the times. The truth of the following lines 
must have been dolefully fel/: : 



86 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

"'Mongst all the ills that hover o'er mankind, 
Unfeigned, or fahled in the poet's page, 
The blackest scroll the sister furies hold 
For red-eyed wrath, or malice to fill up, 
Is incomplete to sum up human woe ; 
Till civil discord, still a darker fiend, 
Stalks forth unmasked from his infernal den, 
With mad Alecto's torch in his right hand, 
To light the flame, and rend the soul of nature." 

Both these tragedies were read with interest, and 
*nuch praised in after years. Alexander Hamilton 
writes to the author, July 1st, 1791 : 

" It is certain that in the " Ladies of Castile," the 
sex will find a new occasion of triumph. Not being a 
poet myself, I am in the less danger of feeling mortifi- 
cation at the idea that in the career of dramatic com- 
position at least, female genius in the United States 
has out-stripped the male." 

The criticism of John Adams — who writes from 
London, Dec. 25th, 1787, is equally favorable. 

" The " Sack of Rome" has so much spirit in itself, 
that for the honor of America, I should wish to see it 
acted on the stage in London, before crowded audiences. 
The dedication of it does so much honor to me, that I 
should be proud to see it in print, even if it could not 
be acted. It requires almost as much interest and 
intrigue to get a play acted, as to be a member of 
Parliament." 

_At another time he says of her Poems : " The Poems 
are not all of them new to me, by whom some of them 
have been read and esteemed some years ago. How- 



MERCY WARREN. 87 

ever foolishly some European writers may have sported 
with American reputation for genius, literature and 
science, I know not where they will find a female 
poet of their own to prefer to the ingenious author of 
these compositions."* 

"A Poetical Reverie" was published before the 
breaking out of the war. It gives a poetical view of 
the future greatness of America, and the punishment 
of her oppressors. " The Squabble of the Sea Nymphs," 
celebrates the pouring of the tea into the sea, and is 
something in the Rape of the Lock style. The lines to 
a friend, who on the American determination to sus- 
pend all commerce with Great Britain, except for the 
necessaries of life, requested a poetical list of the articles 
the ladies might comprise under that head, have some 
fine satire. The reader will not object to the following 
specimen : 

"An inventory clear 
Of all she needs, Lamira offers here ; 
Nor does she fear a rigid Cato's frown 
When she lays by the rich embroidered gown, 
And modestly compounds for just enough, — 
Perhaps some dozens of more slighty stuff: 
With lawns and lutestrings — blond and mechlin laces, 
Fringes and jewels, fans and tweezer cases; 
Gay cloaks and hats, of every shape and size, 
Scarfs, cardinals, and ribbons of all dyes; 
With ruffles stamped, and aprons of tambour, 
Tippets and handkerchiefs, at least three score : 
With finest muslins that fair India boasts, 

* MS I etter to Mrs. Warren, Dec. 20th, J 790. 



88 WOMEN Oi THE REVOLUTION. 

A.nd the choice herbage from Chinesan coasts ; 
(But while the fragrant hyson leaf regales, 
Who'll wear the home-spun produce of the vales ' 
For if 'twould save the nation from the curse 
Of standing troops — or name a plague still worse, 
Few can this choice delicious draught give up, 
Though all Medea's poisons fill the cup.) 
Add feathers, furs, rich satins, and ducapes, 
And head-dresses in pyramidal shapes ;• 
Side-boards of plate, and porcelain profuse, 
With fifty dittos that the ladies use ; 
If my poor treacherous memory has missed, 

Ingenious T 1 shall complete the list. 

So weak Lamira, and her wants so few, 
Who can refuse 1 they're but the sex's due. 
" In youth, indeed, an antiquated page 
Taught us the threatenings of a Hebrew sage 
'Gainst wimples, mantles, curls and crisping pins, 
But rank not these among our modern sins ; 
For when our manners are well understood, 
What in the scale is stomacher or hood % 

'Tis true, we love the courtly mien and air, 
The pride of dress, and all the debonair : 
Yet Clara quits the more dressed neglige, 
And substitutes the careless polance ; 
Until some fair one from Britannia's court 

* It is mentioned in Sanderson's Biography of the Signers of Inde- 
pendence, that the Whig ladies of Philadelphia having adopted thft 
tory fashion of high head-dresses, after the evacuation of the city by 
the British, some Whigs dressed a negress in the full costume of a 
loyalist lady, took her to a place of resort, where the fashionables dis- 
played their towering top-knots, seating her in a conspicuous place, — 
and afterwards paraded her through the city. Nothing, however, 
could stop the progress of the fashion, which for a season became 
general in America. 



meb:y vvakren. 89 

Some jaunty dress, or newer taste import , 
This sweet temptation could not be withstood, 
Though foi the purchase paid her fath er's blood ; 
Though loss of freedom were the costly price, 
Or flaming comets sweep the angry skies; 
Or earthquakes rattle, or volcanoes roar ; 
Indulge this trifle, and she asks no more ; 
Can the stern patriot Clara's suit deny 1 
Tis beauty asks, and reason must comply." 

The powers of Mrs. Warren were devoted to nobler 
objects than chastising the follies of the day. She 
gave her tenderest sympathies to the sufferings of her 
friends, and poured the balm of consolation into many a 
wounded heart. The letters of Mrs. Adams show 
how much she leaned, amidst her heavy trials, on this 
faithful support. Nor was her kindness limited to the 
circle of her acquaintance. Every sufferer from this 
cruel war had a claim her heart acknowledged, and her 
benevolence went forth on its gentle mission among 
strangers. She addressed a letter of condolence to the 
widow of the brave Montgomery, Jan. 20th, 1776, in 
which the consolatory suggestions are those of a patriot 
and a Christian. 

" While you are deriving comfort," she says, " from 
the highest source, it may still further brighten the 
clouded moment to reflect that the number of your 
friends is not confined to the narrow limits of a province, 
but by the happy union of the American Colonies, 
(suffering equally by the rigor of oppression,) the affec- 
tions of the inhabitants are cemented ; and the urn of 
the companion of your heart will be sprinkled with tha 



90 WOMEN OF .HE REVOLUTION. 

tears of thousands who revere the commander at the 
gate? of Quebec, though not personally acquainted with 
General Montgomery." 

Montgomery, as is known, married Janet Livingston, 
a sister of Chancellor Robert R. Livingston. Her life 
was a secluded one, and affords few materials for 
biography; but her letters expressive of her feelings 
have a deep interest. Mrs. Warren says with truth — 
writing to her Nov. 25th, 1777 : — 

" The sensibility of soul, the pathos of grief so strongly 
marked in your letters, have convinced me that the 
brave Montgomery had a partner worthy of his charac- 
ter." 

The following is an extract from her letter in reply 
to Mrs. Warren : — 
" My dear Madam, 

" The sympathy that is expressed in every feature of 
your letter, claims from me the warmest acknowledg- 
ments ; and the professions of friendship from one who 
so generously feels and melts at the woes of a stranger, 
not only soothe but flatter me. 

" It is very kind of you, madam, to seek for alleviating 
consolations in a calamity (though of so much glory). 
I thank God I feel part of their force, and it is owing to 
such affectionate friends as you, that have lightened the 
load of misery. 

"As a wife I must ever mourn the loss of the husband, 
friend and lover ; of a thousand virtues, of all domestic 
bliss ; .he idol of my warmest affections, and in one 
word, my every dream of happiness. But with America 



MERCY WARREN. 91 

I weep the still greater loss of the firm soldier and the 
friend to freedom. Let me repeat his last words when 
we parted : ' You shall never blush for your Mont- 
gomery? 

" Nobly has he kept his word ; but how are my sorrows 
heightened ! Methinks I am like the poor widow in the 
Gospel, who having given her mite, sits down quite 
destitute. Yet would I endeavor to look forward to the 
goal with hope ; and though the path is no longer strewed 
with flowers, trust to the sustaining hand of friendship 
to lead me safely through, and in assisting me to rise 
superior to my misfortunes, make me content to drag 
out the remainder of life, till the Being who has deprived 
me of husband and father, will kindly close the melan- 
choly scene, and once more unite me to them in a 
world of peace, where the tyrant shall no more wantonly 
shed the blood of his innocent subjects, and where vice 
and virtue will receive their reward." 

All the letters of Mrs. Montgomery preserved in the 
correspondence of Mrs. Warren, dwell on her irrepara- 
ble loss, breathing a tender sorrow, mingled with an 
ardent spirit of patriotism. She writes, Nov. 20th, 1780: 

"I have been interrupted. Another alarm of the 
enemy's being in full march for Saratoga, and the poor 
harrassed militia are again called upon. My impatient 
spirit pants for peace. When shall the unfortunate 
individual have the gloomy satisfaction of weeping alone 
for his own particular losses! In this luckless state, 
WDes follow woes — every moment is big with something 
fatal. We hold our lives and fortunes on the most 



t)2 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

precarious tenure. Had Arnold's plan taken place, we 
could not have escaped from a fate dreadful in thought; 
for these polished Britons have proved themselves fertile 
in inventions to procrastinate [protract] misery." 

When going with her nephew to visit her husband's 
family in Dublin, her patriotic feeling is still fervent 
" When I return," she says, " I hope to find my dear 
country, for which I have bled, the envy of her enemies 
and the glory of her patriots." 

The friendships formed by Mrs. Warren were not 
short-lived. The letters addressed to her evince the 
warmth of attachment she inspired ; and her own true 
heart never swerved from its faith. The interchange 
of sentiments was continued for years ; and when inter- 
rupted, resumed with the same affectionate ardor as 
soon as the obstacles were removed. Mrs. Washington 
was one of her favorite correspondents. On her visit 
to head-quarters in Cambridge, Mrs. Warren invited 
her to her house, and paid her many attentions. Her 
letter from Valley Forge, describing their accommoda- 
tions, and others have been elsewhere published. The 
Commander-in-chief joined in his wife's feelings of 
regard. 

Another of Mrs. Warren's intimate friends, was 
Hannah Winthrop, the wife of Dr. Winthrop, of Cam- 
bridge. Her letters discover a mind of no common order 
They corresponded sometimes under the signatures 
of Honoria and Philomela, the last name being bestowed 
on Mrs. Warren for her powers of song. The poetical 
signature assumed by Mrs. Warren was "Marcia," 



mercy warren. 93 

afterwards given at her request to a beloved grand- 
daughter. But as the subjects became momentous on 
which the two wrote, the fanciful appellations were 
dropped. Some portions of Mrs. Winthrop's letters 
are so characteristic, that extracts will be interesting. 
She writes, in Jan. 1773, "I think one of the most 
extraordinary political manoeuvres this century has pro- 
duced, is the ministerial mandate to the Newportians 
for transporting them a thousand leagues for trial. Oh, 
America! you have reason to tremble and arouse, if we 
of this side of the Atlantic are not able to say to this 
Royal Vengeance — hitherto shalt thou come and no 
further ; here shall thy proud waves be stayed ! I should 
rejoice to see the Plymouthean spirit prevail, which 
discovers such noble disinterested virtue, and such a 
sacred regard to rights purchased at the expense of 
every thing valuable by those persevering, self-denying 
patriarchs, who, if permitted to be spectators of these 
terrestrial scenes, must view those of their sons who 
set so little value upon the dear bought purchases, with 
displeasure. Many are waiting impatiently the meeting 
of our assembly. * * I hope Colonel Warren will not 
fail of favoring his country with his presence at that 
important crisis, when every eye will be upon our 
political fathers." 

Again, Jan. 1st, 1774, her patriotic spirit breaks out. 
" Yonder, the destruction of the detestable weed, made 
so by cruel exaction, engages our attention. The virtu- 
ous and noble lesolution of America's sons, in defiance 
of threatened desolation and misery from arbitrary 



94 WOMEN OF TUB RHV0LUTlftr\. 

despots, demands our highest regard. May they yet be 
endowed with all that firmness necessary to carry them 
through all their difficulties, till they come off conquerors. 
We hope to see good accounts of the tea cast away on 
the Cape. The union of the Colonies, the firm and 
sedate resolution of the people, is an omen for good 
unto us. And be it known unto Britain, even American 
daughters are politicians and patriots, and will aid the 
good work with their female efforts." * * * * 
" — Nor can she ever forget, nor will old time ever 
erase — the horrors of that midnight cry, preceding the 
bloody massacre at Lexington, when we were roused 
from the benign slumbers of the season, by beat of 
drum and ringing of bells, with the dire alarm that a 
thousand of the troops of George the Third had gone 
forth to murder the peaceful inhabitants of the surround- 
ing villages. A few hours, with the dawning day, con- 
vinced us the bloody purpose was executing ; the platoon 
firing assuring us the rising sun must witness the 
bloody carnage. Not knowing what the event would 
be at Cambridge, at the return of these bloody ruffians, 
and seeing another brigade dispatched to the assistance 
of the former, looking with the ferocity of barbarians, 
it seemed necessary to retire to some place of safety, 
till the calamity was passed. My partner had been 
confined a fortnight by sickness. After dinner we set 
out, not knowing whither we went. We were directed 
to a place called Fresh- pond, about a mile from the 
town ; but what a distressed house did we find it, filled 
with women whose husbands had gone forth to meet 



MKRCY WARJREN. 95 

the assailants, seventy or eighty of these (with number- 
less infant children,) weeping and agonizing for the fate 
of their husbands. In addition to this scene of distress, 
we were for sometime in sight of the battle ; the glitter- 
ing instruments of death proclaiming by an incessant 
[fire] that much blood must be shed; that many widowed 
and orphaned ones [must] be left as monuments of British 
barbarity. Another uncomfortable night we passed ; 
some nodding in their chairs, some resting their weary 
limbs on the floor. The welcome harbingers of day 
gave notice of its dawning light. [It] brings no news. 
It is unsafe to return to Cambridge, as the enemy were 
advancing up the river, and fixing on the town to stay 
in. 

"Thus with precipitancy we were driven to the 
town of Anderson, following some of our acquaintance — 
five of us to be conveyed with one poor tired horse and 
chaise ; thus we began our pilgrimage, alternately 
walking and riding, the roads filled with frighted 
women and children ; some in carts with their tattered 
furniture, others on foot fleeing into the woods. But 
what added greatly to the horrors of the scene, was our 
passing through the bloody field at Monotong, which 
was strewed with the mangled bodies. We met one 
affectionate father with a cart, looking for his murdered 
son, and picking up his neighbors who had fallen in 
battle, in order for their burial." 

"July 8th, 1775. — Our barrack, or wigwam, or what- 
ever name you may please to give it when you see it, 
ornamented with broken chairs and unlegged tables, 



96 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION 

with shattered etceteras, is entirely at your service. 
Methinks I need not repeat the pleasure T shall have in 
administering comfort to my friends." 

She writes in the following August, after the confla- 
gration of Charlestown — " The laying a whole town in 
ashes, after repeated promises that if they would protect 
their troops in their return from Concord, it should be 
the last place that should suffer harm ! How did they 
give shelter to the wounded expiring soldiers! Their 
houses, their beds, were prepared to receive them ; the 
women readily engaged in pouring balm into their 
wounds, making broths and cordials to support their 
exhausted spirits, for at that time the softer sex had not 
been inured to trickling blood and gaping wounds. 
Some of the unhappy victims died. They gave up the 
ghost blessing the hands that gave relief; and now in 
return for this kindness, they take the first opportunity 
to make five hundred householders miserable ; involving 
many a poor widow and orphan in one common ruin. 
Be astonished, O heavens, at this, and let the inhabitants 
of America tremble to fall into the hands of such a 
merciless foe." 

The following extract, the last that will be given 
from Mrs. Winthrop's letters, describes the entry into 
Cambridge of the captive army of Burgoyne. The 
letter bears date November 11th, 1777 : 

" It is not a great while since I wrote my dear friend 
on my disappointment in not paying her a visit. Now 
methinks I hear her wondering how it is with her Cam 
bridge friends, who are at this time delayed with Britisl 



MEECY WAEEEN 97 

and Hessian — what shall I call them ? who are pranc- 
ing and patrolling in every corner of the town, ornament- 
ed with their glittering side-arms — weapons of destruc- 
tion. A short detail of our situation may perhaps amuse 
you. You will be able to form a judgment of our un- 
happy circumstances. Last Thursday, which was a 
very stormy day, a large number of British troops came 
softly through the town via Watertown to Prospect 
Hill. On Friday we heard the Hessians were to make 
a procession in the same route. We thought we should 
have nothing to do but view them as they passed. To 
be sure the sight was truly astonishing. I never had 
the least idea that the creation produced such a sordid 
set of creatures in human figure — poor, dirty, emaciated 
men. Great numbers of women, who seemed to be 
the beasts of burden, having bushel-baskets on their 
backs, by which they were bent double. The contents 
seemed to be pots and kettles, various sorts of furni- 
ture, children peeping through gridirons and other uten- 
sils — some very young infants, who were born on the 
road — the women barefoot, clothed in dirty rags. Such 
effluvia filled the air while they were passing, that 
had they not been smoking all the time, I should have* 
been apprehensive of being contaminated. After a 
noble-looking advanced-guard, General Burgoyne head- 
ed this terrible group on horseback. The other gen- 
erals also clothed in blue cloaks — Hessians, Waldeckers, 
Anspackers, Brunswickers, etc., etc., followed on. The 
Hessian generals gave us a polite bow as they passed. 
Not so the British. Their baggage- wagons [were] drawn 
5 



98 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

by poor, half-starved horses. But to bring up the rear, 
another fine, noble-looking guard of American brawny 
victorious yeomanry, who assisted in bringing these 
sons of slavery to terms. Some of our wagons drawn 
by fat oxen, driven by joyous-looking Yankees, closed 
the cavalcade. The generals and other officers, went 
to Bradish's, where they quarter at present. The pri- 
vates trudged through thick and thin to the hills, where 
we thought they were to be confined. But what was 
our surprise, when in the morning we beheld an inun- 
dation of those disagreeable objects filling our streets ? 
How mortifying is it ! — they in a manner demanding 
our houses and colleges for their genteel accommoda- 
tion. Did the brave General Gates ever mean this ? 
Did our legislature ever intend the military should pre- 
vail above the civil ? Is there not a degree of unkind- 
ness in loading poor Cambridge, almost ruined before 
this great army seemed to be let loose upon us ! What 
will be the consequence, time will discover. Some 
polite ones say we ought not to look on them as pris- 
oners — that they are persons of distinguished rank. 
Perhaps, too, we must not view them in the light of 
enemies. I fear this distinction will be soon lost. Sur- 
prising that our general, or any of our colonels, should 
insist on the first university in America being disbanded 
for their more genteel accommodation ; and we, poor op- 
pressed people, seek an asylum in the woods against 

a piercing winter! Where is the stern virtue of a , 

who opposed such infractions, in former days ? Who is 
there to plead our cause ? Pity — pity it is our Assem- 



MERCY WARREN. 9& 

bly had not settled these matters before their adjourn- 
ment. It will be vastly more difficult to abridge them 
after such an unbounded license. Perhaps you may 
see some of them at Plymouth. For my part, I think 
insults, famine, and a train of evils present themselves 
to view. General Burgoyne dined on Saturday in 

Boston with General ■. He rode through the 

town properly attended, down Court street and through 
the main street ; and on his return walked on foot to 
Charlestown Ferry, followed by a great number of spec- 
tators as ever attended a Pope ; and generously ob- 
served to an officer with him, the decent and modest 
behavior of the inhabitants as he passed ; saying, if he 
had been conducting prisoners through the city of Lon- 
don, not all the Guards of Majesty could have pre- 
vented insults. He likewise acknowledges Lincoln and 
Arnold to be great generals. It is said we shall have 
not less than seven thousand persons to feed in Cam- 
bridge and its environs, more than its inhabitants. Two 
hundred and fifty cords of wood will not serve them a 
week. Think then how we must be distressed. Wood 
has risen to £5 10s. per coi'd, and but a little to be pur- 
chased. I never thought I could lie down to sleep sur- 
rounded by these enemies ; but we strangely become 
inured to those things which appear difficult when dis- 
tant." 

* # # # # 

" If you like anecdotes, I will give you one more : 
" When General Phillips was travelling back of Al- 
bany, where it is very rocky and barren, he expressed 



100 WOMEN Of THE REVOLUTION. 

his astonishment that they should ever cross the Atlan- 
tic, and go through such difficulty to conquer so un- 
favorable a country, which would not be worth keeping 
when conquered. When they came upon the fertile 
banks of Connecticut River, General Whipple said to 
him, " This is the country which we are fighting for." 
" Ah," replied the General, " this is a country worth a 
ten years' war.'' 

Her indignation does not seem to have subsided at 
once. In February she says : 

" Methinks I hear Mrs. Warren wondering how they 
do at head-quarters at Cambridge. Perhaps her wonder 
may increase when I tell her the British officers live in 
the most luxurious manner possible, rioting on the fat 
of the land, and talking at large with the self-impor- 
tance of lords of the soil." 

To return to Mrs. Warren. From her retirement, 
in which she was constantly visited by her friends, she 
continued to watch the progress of the struggle, and to 
treasure her observations for the historical work she 
had in contemplation. Early in 1777 she writes to her 
friend, Mrs. Macaulay : 

" The approaching spring appears big with the fate 
of empires, and the wheels of revolution move in swift 
progression. They may smite the diadem from the brow, 
und shake some tyrant from his throne before he 
is aware. The flatterers of majesty may be more at- 
tended to than the prophetic voice that augurs evil ; 
yet when the mene t.ekel is inscribed on the walls of the 
palace, it cannot be blotted out by the hand of the 



MERCY WARREN. 101 

prince who humbles not himself, though he sees the 
works that have been done in the days of his fathers." 

After the close of the war, Mrs. Macaulay visited 
this country, and met with a reception due to the cele- 
brity her works had gained. Her principles endeared 
her to the Americans, who were willing to bestow last- 
ing honor on such as had distinguished themselves by 
the sword or the pen in defence of their opinions. Mrs. 
Warren says of her, writing to Mr. Adams, " She is a 
lady of most extraordinary talents, of commanding 
genius, and brilliancy of thought. This, in my opinion, 
often outruns her capacity of expression." 

Mrs. Warren's correspondence with Mr. Adams 
continued while he remained abroad. From time to 
time she demands of him an account of the busy and 
important scenes in which he is engaged ; and when 
she fails to receive intelligence, playfully accuses the 
watery nymphs of Neptune's court of having robbed 
the woodland dames of America. This was in allusion 
to the practice during the war, of sinking all packages 
in case of capture. " Otherwise," she says, " a folio 
from the court of France would, ere this, have reached 
Braintree, and one small octavo at least have found its 
way to Plymouth." The statesman was under an en- 
gagement to make observations for the use of more 
than one woman on the western side of the Atlantic. 
In a letter to him, dated October, 1778, she thus men- 
tions Franklin : 

" Are you, sir, as much in the good graces of the 
Parisian ladies, as your venerable colleague, Dr. F ? 



102 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

We often hear he is not more an adept in politics than 
a favorite of the ladies. He has too many compliments 
of gratulation and esteem from each quarter of the 
globe, to make it of any consequence whether I offer 
my little tribute of respect or not. Yet I would tell 
him as a friend to mankind, as a daughter of America, 
and a lover of every exalted character, that no one 
more sincerely wishes the continuance of his health 
and usefulness ; and so disinterested is my regard, that 
I do not wish him to leave the soft caresses of the court 
of France ; for his unpolished countrywomen will be 
more apt to gaze at and admire the virtues of the 
philosopher, than to embrace the patriotic sage." 

A soul like Mrs. Warren's must have been continu- 
ally saddened by grief and pity, in the view not only of 
the miseries of war, but the depravity prevalent as one 
of its consequences. Yet while she mourned the crimes 
and follies of many to whom her country looked for 
succor, she followed with ardent admiration the career 
of those incorruptible patriots who kept their faith un- 
shaken by misfortune or temptation. Her anxieties 
and hopes were freely communicated to her friends, 
whose answers show the intense interest felt in every 
movement. Miss Catharine Livingston, the sister of 
Mrs. Montgomery, writes in April, 1781 : 

" The news from the southward is by no means so 
favorable as the sanguine among us expected. Arnold, 
it is feared, will get off safely as well as Cornwallis. I 
think the British understand retreat better than we do 
pursuit. It has been an observation, this war, when- 



MERCY WARREN. 103 

ever the expectations of the multitude were raised to 
almost a certainty of success, the event has turned di- 
rectly opposite to their views. This I believe we may 
extend to private, as well as public concerns." 

A letter from Mrs. Montgomery, the year previous, 
so agreeably describes Mrs. Jay, that an extract must 
be given : 

" You speak of my dear friend Mrs. Jay. We have 
heard from her at Hispaniola, where she was obliged to 
put in after the storm, in which she had like to have 
been taken. When she arrives at Paris, I expect to 
hear from her ; if in the descriptive way, it shall be en- 
tirely at your service. She is one of the most worthy 
women I know — has a great fund of knowledge, and 
makes use of most charming language ; added to this 
she is very handsome, which will secure her a welcome 
with the unthinking, whilst her understanding will gain 
her the hearts of the most worthy. Her manners will 
do honor to our countrywomen ; and I really believe 

will please even at the splendid court of Madrid. 

# # # * # 

" The starting tear, and the heaving sigh, interrupt 
my thread. Strange that self will for ever discover 
itself! I find I am to learn much before I become a 
philosopher ; but in every instance of my life I hope 
you, my dear madam, will ever find me your most sin- 
cere friend and humble servant, 

" J. Montgomery." 

Mrs. Warren wrote many letters to her sons at col- 
lege, containing sound advice, of which she preserved 



104 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

copies, labelling the packages for the use of her grand- 
children. Space can be afforded for but a single pas- 
sage from one of these parental missives : 

"I am persuaded you will never counteract those 
native dictates that lead you to' struggle for distinction 
by cherishing that ambition that dignifies the rational 
creature. May you extend your views beyond the 
narrow limits of time, that you may rank not only with 
those models of virtue and heroism that have been so 
much your admiration from your earliest youth, but may 
be able to stand with confidence before Him who dis- 
criminates character not according to the weak decisions 
of man, but by the unerring scale of eternal truth." 

Rochefoucault, in his Travels in the United States, 
speaks of Mrs. Warren's extensive and varied reading. 
She was then seventy ; and he says, " truly interesting ; 
for, lively in conversation, she has lost neither the activ- 
ity of her mind, nor the graces of her person." Her 
history of the Revolution was written, but not published 
till some years afterwards. This work exhibits her as 
a writer in advance of the age. Its sound judgment 
and careful research, with its clear and vigorous style, 
give it a high and lasting value. Her portraiture of 
Mr. Adams gave offence to the great statesman, which 
for a time threatened to interrupt the affectionate rela- 
tions between the two families. But after a sharp cor- 
respondence, it was amicably settled ; and as a token 
of reconciliation, Mrs. Adams sent her friend a ring 
containing her own and her husband's hair. This is 



MERCY WARREN. 105 

now in the possession of one of Mrs. Warren's descend- 
ants. 

For many yeai's before her death Mrs. Warren was 
afflicted with the failure of her sight ; but she submit- 
ted to the trial with pious resignation, continuing to 
receive with cheerfulness the company that frequented 
her house, and to correspond with her friends by means 
of a secretary. A passage from a letter to one of her 
sons, written in 1799, amidst the convulsions that agi- 
tated Europe, may serve to show that she still oc- 
casionally indulged in the elaborate style so much in 
vogue : 

" The ices of the Poles seem to be dissolved to swell 
the tide of popularity on which swim the idols of the 
day ; but when they have had their day, the tide will 
retire to its level, and perhaps leave the floating lumber 
on the strand with other perishable articles, not thought 
worth the hazard of attempting their recovery." 

Towards the close of her protracted life, her influ- 
ence did not diminish ; for her mental superiority was 
still unimpaired and acknowledged. Seldom has one 
woman in any age, acquired such an ascendency over 
the strongest, by the mere force of a powerful intellect. 
She is said to have supplied political parties with their 
arguments ; and she was the first of her sex in America 
who taught the reading world in matters of state policy 
and history. 

By her own relatives and connections she was reve- 
renced and beloved in a degree that affords the best 
5* 



106 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

testimony to her elevated character, and the faithful- 
ness with which she had discharged her duty towards 
them. The influence commanded by her talents was 
enhanced by her virtues, and by the deep religious feel- 
ing which governed her throughout life. Her descend- 
ants are still taught to cherish her memory with reve- 
rent affection. 

The portrait from which the engraving is taken, was 
painted by Copley. A lady who visited Mrs. Warren 
in 1807, describes her as at that time erect in person, 
and in conversation full of intelligence and eloquence. 
Her dress was a steel-colored silk gown, with short 
sleeves and very long waist ; the black silk skirt being 
covered in front with a white lawn apron. She wore a 
lawn mob-cap, and gloves covering the arm to the 
elbows, cut off at the fingers. 

In her last illness, her constant fear was that she 
might lose her mental faculties as death approached. 
She prayed to be spared this ; and her prayer was 
granted. With an expression of thankfulness upon her 
lips — that reason was clear, and the vision of her spirit 
unclouded — she passed to the rest that awaits the faith- 
ful Christian, October 19th, 1814, in the eighty-seventh 
year of her age. 



VI. 



LUCY KNOX. 

When Major Henry Knox, then a resident of Bos- 
ton, was parading the company to the command of 
which he had just been elected, he was seen, among 
many who admired the young officer, by Miss Lucy 
Flucker, the daughter of the Secretary of the Province 
of Massachusetts. His noble form and martial appear- 
ance naturally attracted the attention of the young 
lady ; and on a perspnal acquaintance, a mutual senti- 
ment of regard grew up and ripened into love. Inter- 
ruption to its course was threatened by the growing 
'roubles of the times. Thomas Flucker, the father of 
Lucy, who had long held office under the British gov- 
ernment, adhered to the royal side amidst popular dis- 
content. The maiden had adopted her lover's views 
and feelings. In the gathering storm, the time came 
when her decision was to be made. It was made with 
a true woman's faith and self-devotion ; and she pledged 
herself to the fortunes of a soldier's wife. The separa- 
tion from her family that became necessary, was a pain- 
ful trial, but submitted to with firmness and resolution. 
Mr. Flucker and his family removed from the country 



108 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

loon after the battle of Lexington ; and Mrs. Knox, 
with her husband, joined the American army at Cam- 
bridge. From this time she adhered to her determina- 
tion to encounter the perils and hardships incident to a 
military life. Neither her courage nor her powers of 
endurance failed. When Boston was occupied by the 
British, she escaped with her husband ; and in their pre- 
cipitate retreat, it is said that she concealed the sword 
he wore through the war, by having it quilted within 
\he lining of her cloak. 

In various journals we find the presence of Mrs. 
Knox noticed in camp. Chastellux describes the hut 
on a small farm where she lived with her children, a 
short distance from head-quarters at Verplanck's Point. 
Whenever her health permitted, she followed the army ; 
and it is represented that her presence and cheerful 
manners did much to diffuse contentment and enliven 
dreary scenes. The soldiers could not murmur at pri- 
vations which she endured without complaint. Sad it 
is, that no record remains of the ministrations of wo- 
men in thus softening war's grim features. The good 
they did, however, was at the time acknowledged with 
respectful gratitude. There is reason to believe that 
General Knox often deferred to his wife's judgment, re- 
garding her as a superior being ; and it is said that her 
influence and superiority were owned by Washington 
\iimself. Her mind was undoubtedly of a high order, 
ind her character a remarkable one. She appears to 
have possessed an ascendency over all with whom she 
associated. After the close of the struggle, while Gen- 



LUCY KNOX. 109 

eral Knox held the office of Secretary of War, his 
wife's position was next to tnat of Mrs. Washington, 
whom she advised ir. matters of ceremony. Mrs. Knox 
had a taste for the management and show of public 
life, and was a leader of the ton in the social circles at 
the seat of government. When the General retired 
from the political arena, she accompanied him to his — or 
rather her estates in Maine. She had inherited a 
share of the domain on Penobscop River and Bay 
which belonged to her mother's father, General Waldo, 
the proprietor of the Waldo patent in Maine. The 
property had been confirmed by government to her and 
General Knox after the peace. 

Their residence was at Thomaston, in a splendid 
mansion at the head of St. George's River, furnished 
with taste and elegance. Here the soldier enjoyed the 
honors he had won, and spent his time in the indul- 
gence of his literary tastes, and the companionship of 
his friends. His hospitality was unbounded, and nu- 
merous visitors frequented his house.* The influence 
of " Madam Knox," as she was called, on all within the 
circle of her acquaintance, was decided ; and she 
shared the lot of all remarkable persons, in having ene- 

* Sullivan, in his " Familiar Letters on Public Characters," speaks 
of the hospitality of Knox at his superb mansion. It was not unusual 
for him in summer, when visited by great numbers of his friends, to 
kill an ox and twenty sheep every Monday morning, and to have a 
hundred beds made up daily in the house. He kept (or his own use 
and that of his friends, twenty saddle horses and several pairs of car- 
riage h»rses in his stables. This expensive style of living encroached 
greatly on his means. 



110 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

mies as well as friends. Tradition speaks much of her; 
but little of what is said is sufficiently well authenticated 
to relate. With rare powers of conversation, a memory 
stored with interesting incidents, and much knowledge 
of the world, she was, when she pleased, one of the 
most charming and entertaining of women ; and her 
society was much sought by men of taste and talent, 
while the unreserved expression of her opinions to those 
with whom she conversed, sometimes displeased persons 
who could not appreciate the independence of an 
original and intelligent mind. The military life of 
which she had partaken, and her association with those 
in command, with her engrossing interest in political 
measures, perhaps imparted a tone to her character and 
deportment; none, it is said, could forget her superiority 
of intellect, though in her the loftier qualities of woman's 
nature were softened by the generous feelings that impel 
to the kindly courtesies and charities of life. Having 
accompanied her husband through the vicissitudes of an 
eight years' war — and shared with him the splendors of 
exalted public station — she was content to retire with him 
to the privacy of domestic life, and devote her talents to 
the education of her children. Her taste created the 
elegance that surrounded the General's home, and dif- 
fused a beneficial influence throughout the section of 
country in which they resided. With her strong mind 
and remarkable traits of character, it is not singular 
that the popular remembrance of her should be abiding, 
as of one who had filled more than the ordinary sphere 



MRS. GATES. Ill 

of a woman. She had ten children, only three of 
whom lived beyond infancy. She lived at her place 
after the death of General Knox, continuing active in 
her charities, and in the exercise of hospitality, during 
her almost eighteen years of widowhood. She died in 
1824. 

The manuscript correspondence of General Gates, 
now in the library of the New York Historical Society, 
contains many letters addressed to Mrs. Gates, and 
some written by her. Although these give no detail of 
her personal history, they throw light upon some points 
in her character, showing that she was an efficient help- 
mate as well as an intelligent companion to her husband 
in all affairs that came properly under her supervision. 
She was undoubtedly well skilled in the art of managing 
the concerns of the household and farm, and acquainted 
with their details. Her interest in public affairs is 
however, not the less manifest. Colonel Wilkinson 
announces to her the news of the victory at Saratoga ; 
and continual allusions in the correspondence show 
that she closely observed the progress of events. Her 
letter to the Count D'Estaing in acknowledgment of 
the compliments paid her husband, may serve to show 
that she could write both with ease and grace. 

Danbury, Oct., 1778. 
Sir: 

The terms in which your Excellency has expressed 

your esteem for General Gates are so personally obliging, 



112 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

that I am afraid I am rather more grieved than pure 
patriotism permits, that I cannot at this time send you 
his portrait. It is in Virginia. 

If I can have it in time before you leave these parts, 
I need not assure you, Sir, that my partiality to the 
General will be such powerful inducement to my 
transmitting it to the painter you have directed to copy 
it, that you may depend on the gratification of what 
your kindness to the General has made you wish for. 

With all the gratitude which the honor you feel in- 
clined to confer on General Gates entitles you to from 
his family, and with the respect your personal merit 
commands from all, I have the honor to be, 

Sir, your Excellency's most humble 

and most obedient servant.* 

The maiden name of Mrs. Gates was Phillips. She 
was the daughter of a British officer. She and the 
General resided several years on their estate in Berkeley 
County, Virginia. They afterwards removed to New 
York, and fixed their abode at the country seat near 
the city which received the name of Rosehill. Here 
General Gates appears to have enjoyed a happy retire, 
ment, cheered by visits from his friends, for whom "my 
Mary" had always a cordial welcome. 

* From the original MS. 



VII 



MARY DRAPER. 

When the news reached Connecticut that blood had 
been shed, Putnam, who was at work in the field, left 
his plough in the furrow, and started for Cambridge 
without delaying to change his apparel. Stark was 
sawing pine logs without a coat; he shut down the 
gate of his mill, and commenced the journey to Boston 
in his shirt-sleeves.* The same spirit prevailed far and 
near. The volunteers waited not to be supplied with 
arms, but seizing on whatever rude weapons were at 
hand, hastened away to fight for home and liberty. The 
women, lacking not their share of patriotic zeal, were 
active in preparations to encourage, assist, and sustain 
them. Among many whose persevering exertions 
were ready and efficient, Mrs. Draper is still remem- 
bered with admiration by those who knew her.f She 
was the wife of Captain Draper, of Dedham, Massa- 
chusetts, and lived on a farm. Her house, which was 

* Sabine. 

t The facts were communicated by a lady who was well acquainted 
with Mrs. Draper, and has often heard her relate particulars of the 
war. 



1 14 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION 

always a home for the destitute while occupied by 
her, is yet standing, and is owned by one of her descen- 
dants. It was her abode to the age of one hundred 
years. 

Mrs. Draper felt the deepest sympathy for the hard- 
ships inevitably encountered by the newly raised troops, 
and considered the limited means she possessed not as 
her own property, but belonging to her distressed 
country. When the first call to arms sounded through- 
out the land, she exhorted her husband to lose no time 
in hastening to the scene of action ; and with her own 
hands bound knapsack and blanket on the shoulders of 
her only son, a stripling of sixteen, bidding him depart 
and do his duty. To the entreaties of her daughter 
that her young brother might remain at home to be 
their protector, she answered that every arm able to 
aid the cause belonged to the country. " He is wanted 
and must go. You and I, Kate, have also service to 
do. Food must be prepared for the hungry ; for before 
to-morrow night, hundreds, I hope thousands, will be on 
their way to join the continental forces. Some who 
have travelled far will need refreshment, and you and 
I, with Molly, must feed as many as we can." 

This undertaking, though of no small labor, was 
presently commenced. Captain Draper was a thriving 
farmer ; his granaries were well filled, and his wife's 
dairy was her special care and pride. All the resources 
at her command were in requisition to contribute to 
her benevolent purpose. Assisted by her daughter and 
the domestic,, she spent the whole day and night, and 



MARY DRAPER. 115 

the succeding day, in baking brown bread. The ovens 
of that day were not the small ones now in use, but 
were suited for such an occasion, each holding bread 
sufficient to supply a neighborhood. By good fortune 
two of these monster ovens appertained to the establish- 
ment, as is frequently the case in New England. These 
were soon in full blast, and the kneading trough was 
plied by hands that shrank not from the task. At that 
time of "hurry and confusion, none could stop long 
enough to dine. The people were under the influence 
of strong excitement, and all were in such haste to join 
the army, that they stayed only to relieve the cravings 
of hunger, though from want of food, and fatigue, many 
were almost exhausted. With the help of a disabled 
veteran of the French -war, who had for years resided in 
her family, Mrs. Draper had soon her stores in readiness 
A long form was erected by the road-side ; large pan§ 
of bread and cheese were placed upon it, and replenished 
as often as was necessary; while old John brought 
cider in pails from the cellar, which, poured into tubs, 
was served out by two lads who volunteered their 
services. Thus were the weary patriots refreshed on 
their way. Mrs. Draper presided at the entertainment; 
and when her own stock of provisions began to fail, 
applied to her neighbors for aid. By their contributions 
her hospitable board was supplied, till in a few days 
the necessity for extraordinary exertion had in a 
measure passed, and order and discipline took the place 
of popular tumult. When each soldier carried his 



116 WOMEN OP THE REVOLUTION. 

rations, the calls on private benevolence were less 
frequent and imperative. 

But ere long came the startling intelligence, after the 
battle of Bunker Hill, that a scarcity of ammunition 
had been experienced. General Washington called 
upon the inhabitants to send to head-quarters every 
ounce of lead or pewter at their disposal, saying that 
any quantity, however small, would be gratefully 
received. 

This appeal could not be disregarded. It is difficult 
at this day to estimate the value of pewter as an orna- 
mental as well as indispensable convenience. The more 
precious metals had not then found their way to the 
tables of New Englanders ; and throughout the coun- 
try, services of pewter, scoured to the brightness of 
silver, covered the board, even in the mansions of the 
Wealthy. Few withheld their portion in that hour of 
the country's need ; and noble were the sacrifices made 
in presenting their willing offerings. Mrs. Draper was 
rich in a large stock of pewter, which she valued as 
the ornament of her house. Much of it was precious 
to her as the gift of a departed mother. But the call 
reached her heart, and she delayed not obedience, thank- 
ful that she was able to contribute so largely to the re- 
quirements of her suffering country. Her husband 
before joining the army had purchased a mould for 
casting bullets, to supply himself and son with this 
article of warfare. Mrs. Draper was not satisfied with 
merely giving the material required, when she could 



MRS. POND. 117 

possibly do more ; and her platters, pans, and dishes 
were soon in process of transformation into balls. 

The approach of winter brought fears that the re- 
sources of the country would hardly yield supplies for 
the pressing wants of the army. Mrs. Draper was one 
of the most active in efforts to meet the exigencies of 
the times ; and hesitated at no sacrifice of personal 
convenience to increase her contributions. The supply 
of domestic cloth designed for her family was in a 
short time converted by her labor, assisted by that of her 
daughter and maid, into coats for the soldiers : the sheets 
and blankets with which her presses were stored, were 
fashioned into shirts ; and even the flannel already 
made up for herself and daughter, was altered into men's 
habiliments. Such was the aid rendered by women 
whose deeds of disinterested generosity were never 
known beyond their own immediate neighborhood ! 

Another anecdote may here be mentioned, illustrative 
of the spirit that was abroad. On the morning after 
the battle of Lexington, a company of nearly a hun 
dred halted before the house of Colonel Pond of West 
Dedhanu They had marched all night, and were cov- 
ered with dust, and faint from fatigue and want of food 
Their haste was urgent, and the mistress of the house 
whose hospitality they claimed, was unprepared for thn 
entertainment of so large a party. Her husband was 
absent with the army, and she had only one female 
assistant and a hired man. But the willing heart can 
do wonders. In a few minutes she had a large brass 



118 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

kettle holding ten pails full, over the fire, filled with 
water and Indian meal for hasty pudding. In the barn- 
yard were ten cows ready to contribute their share to 
the morning meal. Near the farm-house was a store 
well supplied with brown earthen dishes, and pewter 
spoons tied in dozens for sale. The military guests 
volunteered their aid. Some milked the cows, others 
stirred the pudding ; while the two domestics collected 
all the milk in the neighborhood. Thus, in the short 
space of an hour, by the energetic efforts of one kind- 
hearted woman, a hundred weary, hungry soldiers were 
provided with refreshment. They ate, and marched 
on to the place of their destination ; receiving encour- 
agement, it cannot be doubted, from this simple mani- 
festation of good-will, which was not soon forgotten 



VIII. 



FREDERICA DE RIEDESEL. 

General Wilkinson, who was personally acquainted 
with Madame de Riedesel, published fragments of her 
journal in his Memoirs. He calls her " the amiable, 
accomplished, and dignified baroness. " — " I have more 
than once," he says, " seen her charming blue eyes be- 
dewed with tears, at the recital of her sufferings.'' The 
regard she inspired, however, was not due entirely to 
admiration of her loveliness; for others in the Ameri- 
can ranks, as well as in Europe, were deeply interested 
in her account of her adventures. 

Frederica Charlotte Louisa, the daughter of Mas- 
sow, the Prussian Minister of State, was born in Bran- 
denburgh, in 1746. Her father was Intendant General 
of the allied army at Minden, where, at the age of 
seventeen, she married Lieutenant Colonel Baron de 
Riedesel. In the war of the Revolution, he was ap- 
pointed to the command of the Brunswick forces in the 
British service in America, and his wife followed him 
in 1777, with her three young children. Her journal, 
and letters addressed to her mother, describe her travels 
with the camp through various parts of the country, 



120 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

and the occurrences she witnessed. These papers, in- 
tended only for a circle of the writer's friends, were 
first published by her son-in-law in Germany in 1801, 
shortly after the death of General Riedesel. Portions 
having been copied into periodicals, and read with inte- 
rest, the whole was translated, and presented to the 
American public. It forms an appropriate appendix 
to the history of the period, with its graphic pictures of 
scenes in the war and the state of society, and its 
notices of distinguished men. But it is still more valu- 
able as exhibiting an example of female energy, forti- 
tude, and conjugal devotion. The moral is the more 
striking as drawn from the experience of a woman of 
rank, subjected to dangers and privations from which 
the soldier might have shrunk. The readiness with 
which she hastened to cross the ocean that she might 
bear her husband company through toils or want, or 
suffering, or death, the courage with which she encoun- 
tered perils, and the cheerful resignation displayed unde 
trials felt the more severely for the sake of those she 
loved, present a touching picture of fidelity and tender- 
ness. After she has joined her husband in Canada, 
and is again separated from him, she thinks only of joy 
at being permitted at last to follow the army. Oblig- 
ed to pass the night on a lonely island, where the only 
shelter is a half-finished house, and the only couch a 
cluster of bushes over which the traveller's cloaks 
are spread, she utters no murmur, nor complains of 
the scarcity of food. "A soldier," she says, " put a pot 
to the fire. I asked him what it contained. ' Some 



FREDERICA DE RIEDESEL. 121 

potatoes/ quoth he, ' which I brought with me.' I 
threw a longing glance at them ; but as they were few, 
it would have been cruel to deprive him of them. At 
last my desire to have some for my children overcame 
my diffidence ; and he gave me half his little provision 
(about twelve potatoes), and took at the same time from 
his pocket two or three ends of candles, which I ac- 
cepted with pleasure ; for my children were afraid to 
remain in the dark. A dollar which I gave him made 
him as happy as his liberality had made me." 

With her three children, the Baroness proceeded to 
meet her husband at Fort Edward. When the army 
broke up the encampment, she would not remain be- 
hind. Her spirits rose at the observation of General 
Burgoyne on the passage across the Hudson — " Britons 
never retrograde." The action at Freeman's Farm took 
place in her hearing, and some of the wounded were 
brought to the house where she was. Among them 
was a young English officer, an only son, whose suffer- 
ings excited her deepest sympathy, and whose last 
moans she heard. A calash was ordered for her further 
progress with the army. They marched through ex- 
tensive forests, and a beautiful district, deserted by 
the inhabitants, who were gone to re-inforce General 
Gates. 

The Diary gives a touching account of the scenes 
passed through at the memorable conclusion of Bur- 
goyne's campaign, with the battles of Saratoga. " On 
the seventh of October," she says, " our misfortunes be- 
gan." Generals Burgoyne, Phillips, and Frazer, with 
6 



122 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

lhe Baron, were to dine with her on that day. She 
had observed in the morning an unusual movement in 
the camp ; and had seen a number of armed Indians in 
their war dresses, who answered "War! war!" to her 
inquiries whither they were going. As the dinner hour 
approached, an increased tumult, the firing, and the yell- 
ing of the savages, announced the approaching battle. 
The roar of artillery became louder and more incessant. 
At four o'clock, instead of the guests invited, General 
Frazer was brought in mortally wounded. The table, 
already prepared for dinner, was removed to make room 
for his bed. The Baroness, terrified by the noise of the 
conflict raging without, expected every moment to see 
her husband also led in pale and helpless. Towards 
night he came to the house, dined in haste, and desired 
his wife to pack up her camp furniture, and be ready 
for removal at an instant's warning. His dejected 
countenance told the disastrous result. Lady Ackland, 
whose tent was adjoining, was presently informed that 
her husband was wounded, and a prisoner! Thus 
through the long hours till day, the kind ministries of 
the Baroness were demanded by many sufferers. " I 
divided the night," she says, " between her I wished to 
comfort, and my children who were asleep, but who I 
feared might disturb the poor dying General. Several 
times he begged my pardon for the trouble he thought 
he gave me. About three o'clock I was informed he 
could not live much longer ; and as I did not wish to 
be present at his last struggle, I wrapped my children 



FREDERICA DE RIEDESEL. 123 

in blankets, and retired into the room below. At eight 
in the morning he expired." 

All day the cannonade continued, while the me- 
lancholy spectacle of the dead was before their eyes. 
The women attended the wounded soldiers who were 
brought in, like ministering angels. In the afternoon 
the Baroness saw the house that had been built for her 
in flames. 

Frazer's last request had been that he should be buried 
at six in the evening, in the great redoubt on the hill ; 
and the retreat was delayed for this purpose. The 
generals, with their retinues, followed the honored corpse 
to the spot, in the midst of a heavy fire from the Amer- 
icans ; for General Gates knew not that it was a funeral 
procession. The women stood in full view of this im- 
pressive and awful scene, so eloquently described by 
Burgoyne himself: 

"The incessant cannonade during the solemnity; 
the steady attitude and unaltered voice with which the 
the chaplain officiated, though frequently covered with 
dust which the shot threw up on all sides of him ; the 
mute but expressive mixture of sensibility and indig- 
nation upon every countenance ; these objects will re- 
main to the last of life upon the mind of every man 
who was present." 

The deepening shadows of evening closed around the 
group thus rendering the last service to one of their 
number, while each might anticipate his own death in 
the next report of artillery. A subject was presented 



124 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

for the pencil of a master. An appropriate side-piece 
to the picture might represent the group of anxious 
females who shared the peril, regardless of themselves. 
" Many cannon-balls," says Madame de Riedesel, " flew 
close by me ; but I had my eyes directed towards the 
mountain where my husband was standing amidst the 
fire of the enemy ■ and of course I did not think of my 
Dwn danger." 

That night the army commenced its retreat, leaving 
the sick and wounded ; a flag of truce waving over the 
hospital thus abandoned to the mercy of the foe. The 
rain fell in torrents all day of the 9th, and it was dark 
when they reached Saratoga. The Baroness suffered 
cruel suspense as to the fate of her husband. She h"ad 
taken charge of some valuables belonging to the officers, 
and having no place to change her drenched apparel, 
lay down with her children upon some straw by the 
fire. Her provisions were shared the next day with the 
officers ; and being insufficient to satisfy their hunger, 
she made an appeal to the Adjutant-General in their 
behalf. Again the alarm of battle, and reports of mus- 
kets and cannon, drove them to seek shelter in a house, 
which was fired at under the impression that the gene- 
rals were there. It was occupied by women and crippled 
soldiers. They were obliged at last to descend into the 
cellar, where the Baroness laid herself in a corner, 
supporting her children's heads on her knees. The 
night was passed in the utmost terror and anguish ; and 
with the morning the terrible cannonade commenced 
anew. So it continued for several days. But in the 



FREDERICK DE RIEDESEL. 125 

midst of the dreadful scenes, when the Baron spoke of 
sending his family to the American camp, the heroic 
wife declared that nothing would be so painful to her as 
to owe safety to those with whom he was fighting. He 
then consented that she should continue to follow the 
army. "However," she says — "the apprehension that 
he might have marched away, repeatedly entered my 
mind ; and I crept up the staircase more than once to 
dispel my fears. When I saw our soldiers near their 
watchfires, I became more calm, and could even have 
slept." 

" The want of water continuing to distress us, we 
could not but be extremely glad to find a soldier's wife 
so spirited as to fetch some from the river, an occupa- 
tion from which the boldest might have shrunk, as the 
Americans shot every one who approached it. They 
told us afterwards that they spared her on account of 
her sex. 

" I endeavored to dispel my melancholy by continu- 
ally attending to the wounded. I made them tea and 
coffee, and often shared my dinner with them. One day 
a Canadian officer came creeping into our cellar, and 
was hardly able to say that he was dying with hunger. 
I felt happy to offer him my dinner, by eating which he 
recovered his health, and I gained his friendship." 

At length the danger was over. 

" A gallant army formed their last array 
Upon that field, in silence and deep gloom, 
And at their conquerors' feet 
Laid their war weapons down. 



126 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

" Sullen and stern — disarmed but not dishonored; 
Brave men — but brave in vain — they yielded there j— 
The soldier's trial task 
Is not alone ' to die.' " 

On the seventeenth, the capitulation was carried into 
effect. The generals waited upon Gates, and the troops 
surrendered themselves prisoners of war. " At last," 
writes the fair Riedesel, " my husband's groom brought 
me a message to join him with the children. I once 
more seated myself in my dear calash ; and while 
driving through the American camp, was gratified to 
observe that nobody looked at us with disrespect ; but 
on the contrary, greeted us, and seemed touched at the 
sight of a captive mother with three children. I must 
candidly confess that I did not present myself, though so 
situated, with much courage to the enemy. When 1 
drew near the tents, a fine-looking man advanced 
towards me, helped the children from the calash, and 
kissed and caressed them. He then offered me his 
arm, and tears trembled in his eyes. " You tremble, 
madam," said he ; " do not be alarmed, I beg of you." 
" Sir,"' cried I — " a countenance so expressive of bene- 
volence, and the kindness you have evinced towards my 
children, are sufficient to dispel all apprehension." He 
then ushered me into the tent of General Gates, whom 
I found engaged in friendly conversation with Generals 
Burgoyne and Phillips. General Burgoyne said to me — ■ 
" You can now be quiet and free from all apprehension 
of danger." I replied that I should indeed be reprehen- 



FREUERICA DE REIDESEL. 127 

sible, if I felt any anxiety, when our general was on 
such friendly terms with General Gates. 

" All the Generals remained to dine with the Amer- 
ican commander. The gentleman who had received 
me with so much kindness, came and said to me : 
" You may find it embarrassing to be the only lady in 
so large a company of gentlemen. Will you come 
with your children to my tent, and partake of a frugal 
dinner, offered with the best will?" " You show me so 
much kindness," replied I, " I cannot but believe that 
you are a husband and a father." He informed me that 
he was General Schuyler. The dinner was of excel- 
lent smoked tongues, beefstakes, potatoes, fresh butter, 
and bread. Never did a meal give me so much plea- 
sure. I was easy after many, months of anxiety, and I 
read the same happy change in the countenances of 
those around me. That my husband was out of dan- 
ger, was a still greater cause of joy. After our dinner, 
General Schuyler begged me to pay him a visit at his 
house near Albany, where he expected that General 
Burgoyne would also be his guest. I sent to ask my 
husband's directions, who advised me to accept the in- 
vitation. We v^ere two days' journey from Albany, 
and as it was now five o'clock in the afternoon, he 
wished me to endeavor to reach, on that day, a place 
distant about three hours' ride. General Schuyler car- 
ried his civilities so far as to solicit a well-bred French 
officer to accompany me on that first part of my jour- 
ney. As soon as he saw me safely established in the 



128 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

house where I was to remain, he went bf.ck to the 
General. 

" We reached Albany, where we had so often wished 
ourselves; but did not enter that city, as we had hoped, 
with a victorious army. Our reception, however, from 
General Schuyler, and his wife and daughters, was not like 
the reception of enemies, but of the most intimate 
friends. They loaded us with kindness ; and they 
behaved in the same manner towards General Burgoyne, 
though he had without any necessity ordered their 
splendid establishment to be burnt. All their actions 
proved that at the sight of the misfortunes of others, 
they quickly forgot their own. Burgoyne was so much 
affected by this generous deportment, that he said to 
Schuyler : " You are too kind to me — who have done 
you so much injury." " Such is the fate of war," he 
replied ; " let us not dwell on this subject." We remain- 
ed three days with that excellent family, and they 
seemed to regret our departure." 

General Riedesel, who brooded continually on the late 
disastrous events, and upon his captivity, was not able 
to bear his troubles with the spirit and cheerfulness of 
his wife. He became moody and irritable ; and his 
health was much impaired in consequence of having 
passed many nights in the damp air. " One day," says the 
Baroness, " when he was much indisposed, the American 
sentinels at our doors were very noisy in their merri- 
ment and drinking; and grew more so when my husband 
sent a message desiring them to be quiet ; but as soon 
as I went myself, and ^old them the General was sick, 



FREDERICA DE RIEDESEL. 129 

they were immediately silent. This proves that the 
Americans also respect our sex." 

The prisoners at length reached Boston ; and after a 
stay of three weeks, were transported to Cambridge, 
where Madame de Riedesel and her family were lodged 
in one of the best houses of the place.* None of the 
officers were permitted to enter Boston ; but Madame 
de Riedesel went to visit Mrs. Carter, the daughter of 
General Schuyler, and dined with her several times. 
Boston she describes as a fine city ; but the inhabitants 
as " outrageously patriotic." The captives met in some 
instances with very different treatment from that 
which they had before encountered ; and the worst, she 
says, from persons of her own sex. They gazed at 
her with indignation, and testified contempt when she 
passed near them. Mrs. Carter resembled her parents 
in mildness and goodness of heart; but the Baroness has 
no admiration for her husband — " this wicked Mr. Carter, 
who, in consequence of General Howe's having burnt 
several villages and small towns, suggested to his 
countrymen to cut off our generals' heads, to pickle 
them, and to put them in small barrels ; and as often as 
the English should again burn a village — to send them 
one of these barrels." She here adds some sad stories 
of American cruelty towards the loyalists. 

On the third of June, 1778, Madame de Riedesel 

* On one of the windows of this house the name " Riedesel," written 
on the glass with a diamond, is still to be seen. In front are several 
beautiful lime-trees, and the view is a lovely one. The house near it, 
which Washington occupied as his head-quarters, is now the residence 
of the poet Longfellow. 
6* 



130 WOMEN OP THE REVOLUTION. 

gave a ball and supper to celebrate her husband's birth- 
day. The British officers were invited, with Mr. and 
Mrs. Carter, and General Burgoyne, of whom the fair 
hostess records that he sent an excuse after he had 
made them wait till eight o'clock. " He had always 
some excuse," observes she — " for not visiting us, until 
he was about departing for England, when he came 
and made me many apologies ; to which I made no 
other reply than that I should be extremely sorry if he 
had put himself to any inconvenience for our sake." 
The dance and supper were so brilliant, and so numer- 
ously attended, and the toasts drunk with such enthu- 
siasm, that the house was surrounded with people, who 
began to suspect a conspiracy. The Baroness here 
notices the American method of telegraphing by lighting 
torches on surrounding heights, when they wish to call 
troops together. When General Howe attempted to 
rescue the troops detained in Boston, the inhabitants 
planted their torches, and a crowd of people without 
shoes or stockings — their rifles on their shoulders, 
flocked together ; so that the landing would have been 
attended with extreme difficulty. Towards the ap- 
proach of winter the prisoners received orders to set 
out for Virginia. The ingenuity of Madame de Riedesel 
devised means of preserving the colors of the German 
regiments, which the Americans believed they had 
burned. A mattress was made under her direction, 
into which the honorable badges were introduced. 
Captain O'Connel, under pretence of some commission, 
took the mattress to New York; and the Baroness 



FREDERICA DE RIEDESEL,. 13 J 

received it again at Halifax, on their voyage from New 
York to Canada, and had it placed in her cabin. 

A rascal on no small scale was the cook of Madame 
la Baronne. She had given him money for the daily 
expenditure — but he had paid nobody ; and while prepa- 
rations for the journey were going on, bills were 
presented to the amount of a thousand dollars. The 
cook was arrested ; but escaping, went into the service 
of General Gates, who finding him too expensive, he 
entered into the employment of General La Fayette. 
The Marquis used to say, " that he was a cook only fit 
for a king." 

The Baroness had the accommodation of an English 
coach in commencing her journey to Virginia, Novem- 
ber, 1778. The provisions followed in the baggage 
wagon ; but as that moved more slowly, they were 
often without food, and were obliged to make a halt 
every fourth day. At Hartford, General La Fayette 
was invited to dine by the Baron, somewhat to the 
perplexity of his wife, who feared she would have diffi- 
culty in preparing her provisions so as to suit one who 
appreciated a good dinner. The Marquis is mentioned 
with great respect; but Madame de Riedesel thinks the 
suspicions of the Americans were excited by hearing 
them speak French. 

" We reached one day a pretty little town ; but our 
wagon remaining behind, we were very hungry. 
Seeing much fresh meat in the house where we stopped, 
I begged the landlady to sell me some. "I have," 
quoth she, " several sorts of meat ; beef, mutton and 



132 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

lamb." 1 said, " let me have some ; I will pay you 
liberally." But snapping her fingers, she replied; "You 
shall not have a morsel of it ; why have you left your 
country to slay and rob us of our property? Now 
that you are our prisoners, it is our turn to vex you." 
" But," rejoined I, " see those poor children ; they are 
dying of hunger." She remained still unmoved ; but 
when at length my youngest child, Caroline, who was 
then about two years and a half old, went to her, seized 
her hands, and said in English : " Good woman, I am 
indeed very hungry," she could no longer resist; and 
carrying the child to her room, she gave her an egg. 
" But," persisted the dear little one, " I have two sisters." 
Affected by this remark, the hostess gave her three 
eggs, saying, "I am loth to be so weak, but I cannot 
refuse the child." By-and-by she softened, and offered 
me bread and butter. I made tea : and saw that the 
hostess looked at our tea-pot with a longing eye ; for 
the Americans are very fond of that beverage ; yet they 
had stoutly resolved not to drink any more, the tax on 
tea, as is well known, having been the immediate cause 
of the contest with Great Britain. I offered her, how- 
ever, a cup, and presented her with a paper case full of 
tea. This drove away all clouds between us. She 
begged me to go with her into the kitchen, and there I 
found her husband eating a piece of pork. The woman 
went into the cellar to bring me a basket of potatoes. 
When she returned into the kitchen, the husband offered 
ner some of his dainty food ; she tasted it, and returned 
.o him what remained. I was disagreeably struck with 



FREDERICA DE RIEDESBL 133 

this partnership ; but the man probably thought I was 
envious of it, on account of the hunger I had manifested ; 
and presented me with the little both had left. I feared 
by refusing, to offend them, and lose the potatoes. I 
therefore accepted the morsel, and having kept up the 
appearance as if I ate, threw it secretly into the fire. 
We were now in perfect amity ; with the potatoes and 
some butter I made a good supper, and we had to our- 
selves three neat rooms, with very good beds." 

On the banks of the Hudson, in a skipper's house, 
they were not so fortunate in finding good accommo- 
dations — being given the remnants of breakfast aftei 
the hostess, children, and servants had finished their 
meal. The woman was a staunch republican, and 
could not bring herself to any courtesies towards the 
enemies of her country. They fared a little better 
after crossing the river. When the aids-de-camp who 
accompanied them to the house where they were to 
lodge, wished to warm themselves in the kitchen, the 
host followed, and taking them by their arms, said, " Is 
it not enough that I give you shelter, ye wretched 
royalists?" His wife, however, was more amiable; 
and his coarseness gradually softened, till they became 
good friends. 

They stopped one night on the road, at the house of 
a Colonel Howe, to whom the Baroness meant to pay a 
compliment by asking him if he was a relative of the 
general of that name. " Heaven forbid!" replied lie, in 
great anger ; " he is not worthy of that honor." Ma- 
dame de Riedesel is amusingly indignant at the san- 



134 WOMEN OP THE REVOLUTION. 

guinary temper of this gentleman's daughter, who was 
very pretty and only fourteen years of age. " Sitting 
with her near the fire, she said on a sudden, staring at 
the blaze, ' Oh ! if I had here the king of England, 
with how much pleasure 1 could roast and eat him!' 
I looked at her with indignation, and said, ' I am almost 
ashamed to belong to a sex capable of indulging such 
fancies !' I shall never forget that detestable girl." 

Passing through a wild, grand, and picturesque coun- 
try, they at length arrived in Virginia. At a day's dis- 
tance from the place of destination, their little stock of 
provisions gave out. At noon they reached a house, 
and begged for some dinner ; but all assistance was 
denied them, with many imprecations upon the royal- 
ists. " Seizing some maize, I begged our hostess to give 
me some of it to make a little bread. She replied that 
she needed it for her black people. ' They work for us,' 
she added, ' and you come to kill us.' Captain Edmon- 
stone offered to pay her one or two guineas for a little 
wheat. But she answered, ' You shall not have it even 
for hundreds of guineas ; and it will be so much the 
better if you all die !' The captain became so enraged at 
these words, that he was about to take the maize ; but I 
prevented him from doing it, thinking we should soon 
meet with more charitable people. But in this I was 
much mistaken ; for we did not see even a solitary hut. 
The roads were execrable, and the horses could hardly 
move. My children, starving from hunger, grew pale, 
and for the first time lost their spirits. Captain Edmon- 
stone, deeply affected at this, went about asking some- 



FREDERICA DE RIEDESEL. 135 

thing foi the children ; and received at last from one of 
the wagoners who transported our baggage, a piece of 
stale bread, of three ounces weight, upon which many 
a tooth had already exercised its strength. Yet to my 
children it was at this time a delicious morsel. I broke 
it, and was about giving the first piece to the youngest, 
but she said, ' No, mamma ; my sisters are more in 
want of it than I am.' The two eldest girls, with no 
less generosity, thought that little Caroline was to have 
the first piece. I then distributed to each her small 
portion. Tears ran down my cheeks ; and had I ever 
refused to the poor a piece of bread, I should have 
thought retributive justice had overtaken me. Captain 
Edmonstone, who was much affected, presented the 
generous wagoner who had given us his last morsel, 
with a guinea ; and when we were arrived at our place 
of destination, we provided him, besides, with bread for 
a part of his journey homewards." 

The place of their destination was Colle, in Virginia, 
where General Riedesel, who had advanced with the 
troops, already expected them with impatient anxiety 
This was about the middle of February, 1779. They 
had passed, in the journey, through the States of Con- 
necticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and 
Maryland ; and in about three months had travelled 
six hundred and twenty-eight miles. They hired a 
house belonging to an Italian who was about leaving 
the country. The troops were at Charlottesville, three 
hours' ride distant — the road thither running through a 
fine wood 



136 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

The life of Madame de Riedesel and her family in 
Virginia was not an unhappy one, though they suffered 
from the heat during the summer. The General was 
brought home one day with a coup de soleil, which foi 
years afterwards affected his health. His physician and 
acquaintances advised him to go to Frederic Springs 
It was there that he and his wife became acquainted 
with General Washington's family, and with some other 
amiable persons attached to the American cause. 

While at Frederic Springs, General Riedesel re- 
ceived the news that he and General Phillips, with their 
aids-de-camp, were expected in New York, where 
they were to be exchanged for American prisoners. 
He returned to Colle, to place the troops during his 
absence, unde*r the care of Colonel Specht. In August, 
1779, the Baroness left the Springs to join her husband 
in Pennsylvania, stopping near Baltimore to pay a visit 
to one of the ladies with whom, though of opposite 
political opinions, she had formed a friendship at the 
Springs. This visit was a charming episode in the 
troubled life of Madame de Riedesel. She remembered 
long after, with gratitude, the hospitality and kindness 
received. " The loyalists," she says, " received us with 
frank hospitality, from political sympathy ; and those of 
opposite principles gave us a friendly welcome, merely 
from habit ; for in that country it would be con- 
sidered a crime to behave otherwise towards stran- 
gers." 

At Elizabethtown they met with many friends to 
their cause. They were exulting in the anticipation 



FREDERICA DE RIEDE9EL. 137 

of an exchange, and restoration to freedom, when an 
officer arrived, commissioned by Washington to deliver 
to General Phillips a letter containing an order to re- 
turn to Virginia — Congress having rejected the proposal 
of a cartel. The disappointment was excessive, but 
unavoidable ; and after a day's halt, they commenced 
their journey back. On reaching Bethlehem, the two 
Generals, Riedesel and Phillips, obtained permission to 
remain there till the difficulties respecting the cartel 
should be removed. Their bill, after six weeks' lodg- 
ing for the party, with the care of their horses, amount- 
ed to thirty-two thousand dollars in paper money, cor- 
responding to about four hundred guineas in specie. A 
traveller who bought silver coin, gave them eighty dol- 
lars in paper money for every dollar in silver, and thus 
enabled them to leave the place, when at last permitted 
to go to New York. 

Arrived at New York, a soldier went before the 
travellers " from the gate of the city," to show the way 
to their lodging. This proved to be the house of the 
Governor, General Tryon, where the Baroness made 
herself at home with her children and attendants, under 
the belief that they had been conducted to a hotel. She 
received visits here from General Patterson, the Com- 
mandant of the city ; and also from Generals Corn- 
wallis and Clinton ; and had a romantic introduction to 
her host, who did not announce his name at the first 
visit, nor till she had expressed a wish to become per- 
sonally acquainted with him. 

Madame de Riedesel went from the city to Genera. 



138 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Clinton's country-seat, a mile distant, where her chil- 
dren were innoculated for the small-pox. When the 
danger of infection was over, they returned and spent 
the winter in New York. The charming country-seat 
was again their residence in the summer of 1780. 
The situation was uncommonly beautiful ; around the 
house were meadows and orchards, with the Hudson at 
their feet ; and they had abundance of delicious fruit. 
General Clinton visited them frequently, and the last 
time was accompanied by Major Andre, the day before 
he set out on his fatal expedition. 

The breaking out of a malignant fever, which made 
dreadful ravages in the city and neighborhood, dis- 
turbed their pleasure. In the house no less than twenty 
were laboring under the disease. The Baron himself 
was dangerously ill ; and the cares and nursing devolved 
on his wife, who was worn out with anxiety. " We 
were one day," she says, "in anxious expectation of 
our physician from New York, my husband's symptoms 
having become of late more and more threatening. He 
was continually in a lethargic stupor, and when I pre- 
sented him the sago water, which the physician had 
ordered for him, he turned round, desiring me to let 
him die quietly. He thought his end must be near. 
The physician having entered the room at that mo- 
ment, I urgently begged him to tell me the truth, and to 
let me know if there was any hope of my husband's 
recovery. He had scarcely said ' Yes,'' when my chil- 
dren, on hearing this merciful word, sprang from under 
a table where they had lain concealed in dreadful ex- 



FREDERICA PE RIEDESEL. 139 

pectation of the doctor's sentence, threw themselves at 
his feet, and kissed his hands with rapturous feelings 
of gratitude. Nobody could have witnessed the scene 
without sharing my deep emotion." * * " Out of 
thirty persons of whom our family consisted, ten only 
escaped the disease. It is astonishing how much the 
frail human creature can endure ; and I am amazed 
that I survived such hard trials. My happy tempera- 
ment permitted me even to be gay and cheerful, when- 
ever my hopes were encouraged. The best health is 
often undermined by such sufferings ; still I rejoice to 
think I had it in my power to be useful to those who 
are dearest to me ; and that without my exertions, I 
might have lost those who now contribute so much to 
my felicity. At length all my patients were cured." 

In the autumn Generals Phillips and Riedesel were 
exchanged ; although the rest of the army who surrender- 
ed at Saratoga still remained prisoners. General 
Clinton wished to replace the Baron in active service, 
and appointed him Lieutenant General, investing him 
with the command at Long Island. A second danger- 
ous attack of fever so impaired his health, that the 
physicians thought he could never recover as long as he 
resided in that climate. But he would not leave the 
army, nor ask a furlough. 

In the following spring, the Baroness was established 
on Long Island. Her husband's health mended slowly ; 
and his thoughts being often fixed on the remnant of his 
late regiments, which had remained in Canada, General 
Clinton at length consented that he should pay them a 



140 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION 

visit. Being about to depart in July, Madame de 
Riedesel sent the residue of their wood — about thirty 
cords — to some poor families, and took but a few articles 
of furniture, returning the rest to the commissary of 
the army. They at last embarked for Canada, and 
reached Quebec after a journey of about two months, 
in September, 1781. 

Madame de Riedesel gives a pleasing description of 
her life in Canada, which seems to have been very 
agreeable. She had an opportunity of observing the 
habits of the Indians, some of whom were under her 
husband's command. Before she joined him on her 
first arrival in Canada, one of the savages, having heard 
that M. de Riedesel was ill, that he was married, and 
felt uneasy on account of the delay in his wife's arrival, 
came with his own wife, and said to the General ; " I 
love my wife — but I love thee also; in proof of which I 
give her to thee." The Indian seemed distressed and 
almost offended at the refusal of his gift. It is some- 
what remarkable that this man was by birth a German, 
who had been taken prisoner by the savages when 
about fifteen years of age. 

In the summer of 1783, the General having received 
news of the death of his father, became impatient to 
return to Europe. They made all necessary arrange- 
ments for the voyage, and after the troops had embarked, 
were accompanied by many of their friends to the 
vessel. 

General and Madame de Riedesel were graciously 
received by the king and queen of Great Britain 



FREDERICA DE RIEDESEL. 141 

when they reached London. Their return to Germany- 
was welcomed by their old friends and acquaintance ; 
and the fair traveller rejoiced on seeing her husband 
once more " standing in the midst of his soldiers, and a 
multitude of parents, wives, children, brothers and 
sisters, who either rejoiced at meeting again their 
relatives who had been so long absent, or mourned 
over the loss of those who had been long missed and 
expected." 

It is to be presumed that the after life of one who 
possessed a spirit so generous and cheerful, was happy. 
The record of her sojourn in America impresses the 
reader with feelings of admiration and esteem for her. 
Such details have a value beyond that of a mere narration 
of facts ; they illustrate character, and add the warm color- 
ing of life to the outlines of history. They afford light 
by which we can more clearly read the great lessons in 
the story of battle and victory. In the midst of our 
enthusiasm for the achievement of Saratoga, we do not 
lose pity for the disasters that accompanied the triumph. 
We see courtesy and humanity prevailing in the midst 
of the strife, and honor both the opposing principles of 
loyalty and patriotism. " If the figures of the picture 
are at first fierce and repulsive — the figures of brethren 
armed against brethren, of mercenary Germans and 
frantic savages, Canadian rangers and American plough- 
men, all bristling together with the horrid front of war 
— what a charm of contrast is presented, when among 
these stern and forbidding groups is beheld the form of 
a Christian woman moving to and fro, disarming the 



142 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

heart of every emotion but reverence, softening the 
misfortunes of defeat, and checking the elation of 
victory !" 

•After the death of General Riedesel, in 1800, the 
Baroness fixed her residence at Berlin, where she died, 
on the 29th of March, 1808. She established here 
an asylum for military orphans, and an alms-house for 
the poor in Brunswick. 

She was long remembered, with her interesting family, 
in Virginia, as well as in other parts of the continent. 
She is described as full in figure, and possessing no 
small share of beauty. Some of her foreign habits 
rendered her rather conspicuous ; such as riding in 
boots, and in what was then called, "the European 
fashion ;" and she was sometimes charged with careless- 
ness in her attire. She was visited by many families 
in the neighborhood of Charlottesville 



IX 



DOROTHY HANCOCK. 

Mrs. Hancock was one of those who, at Cambridge, 
extended courtesies to the ladies of Burgoyne's army, 
when under the convention of surrender. She was the 
daughter of Edmund Quincy, of Massachusetts, and 
was born in 1750. At the age of twenty- four she was 
married to one of the greatest men of the age. The 
honor that encircled the name of John Hancock, 
received added lustre from the fair partner of his 
fortunes. Moving in the best circles of society, and a 
leader in taste and fashion, she filled her illustrious 
station with dignity, and dispensed with grace the 
hospitalities of her house. There might be seen at her 
table all classes ; the grave clergy, the veteran and the 
gay — and the gifted in song, or anecdote, or wit. The 
social customs of the day savored of profusion. It 
was a practice in families of respectability, to have a 
tankard of punch made in the morning, of which visitors 
during the day were invited to partake. Dinners and 
suppers were frequently interchanged : and the tables 
were loaded with provision. The dinner hour was at 
one or two o'clock ; and three was the latest for formal 



144 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

occasions. The evening amusement was usually a game 
at cards ; and dancing was much in vogue. There 
were concerts; but theatrical amusements were pro- 
hibited. Much attention was paid to dress ; and coats 
various in color were worn. 

Mrs. Hancock was not only admirable in the pleasing 
duties of mistress of her household, but in hours of 
disease and pain soothed her husband and calmed his 
sensitive and irritable temper. She had her share, too, 
in the terrors and dangers of the war. When the 
British made their attack at Lexington and Concord, 
she was at the latter place with Mr. Hancock, and fled 
with him to Woburn. Many a scene of Revolutionary 
days, in which she was herself an actor or a spectator, 
she was accustomed to depict in after years. She would 
often describe the appearance and manners of the 
British officers who had been quartered in Boston, 
dwelling particularly on the military virtue of Earl 
Percy, who slept in a tent among his soldiers encamped 
on the Common in the winter of 1774-5, and whose 
voice could be heard at the dawn of day, drilling his 
troops. 

During the life of her husband, Mrs. Hancock was 
of necessity much in the gay world, in which she occu- 
pied a position so distinguished. After his death she 
married Captain Scott, with whom she passed a less 
brilliant, yet not a less happy life. Her later years 
were spent in seclusion. She was still, however, sur- 
rounded by friends who were instructed and charmed 
by her superior mind, and cheerful conversation. She 



SARAH HULL. 145 

went but little into society, and whenever she appeared, 
was received with great attention. La Fayette, on his 
visit to this country, called upon her, and many spoke 
of the interesting interview witnessed between "the 
once youthful chevalier and the splendid belle." 

She died in her seventy-eighth year. Several anec- 
dotes are told of her sprightliness, good sense, and 
benevolence, but unfortunately cannot be obtained in a 
form sufficiently authentic for this sketch. 



Sarah Hull, the wife of Major William Hull, was 
one of those women who followed their husbands to 
the camp, resolved to partake their dangers and priva- 
tions. She was with the army at Saratoga, and joined 
the other American ladies in kind and soothing atten- 
tions to the fair captives after the surrender. She was 
the daughter of Judge Fuller, of Newton, Massachu- 
setts, and was born about 1755. At the close of the 
war she returned home ; and when her gallant husband 
was appointed general of the county militia, did the 
honors of his marquee, and received guests of distinc- 
tion with a grace, dignity, and affability that attracted 
general admiration. For several years General Hull 
held the office of Governor of Michigan Territory. 
In her eminent station, Mrs. Hull displayed so much 
good sense, with more brilliant accomplishments, that 
she improved the state of society in her neighborhood, 
without provoking envy by her superiority. The influ- 
ence of a strong intellect, with cultivated taste and 
7 



146 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

refinement, presided in her circle. Those who visited 
the wild country about them found a generous wel- 
come at her hospitable mansion, and departed with ad- 
miring recollections of her and her daughters. 

But it was in the cloud of misfortune that the energy 
of Mrs. Hull's character was most clearly shown. Gov- 
ernor Hull having been appointed Major General in the 
war of 1812, met with disasters which compelled his 
surrender, and subjected him to suspicions of treason. 
His protracted trial and his defence belong to history. 
His wife sustained these evils with a trustful serenity, 
hoping that the day would yet come when all doubts 
should be cleared away, and her husband restored to 
public confidence. The loss of her son in battle was 
borne with the same Christian fortitude. Her quiet, 
calm demeanor exhibited no trace of the suffering that 
had wrung her heart. She lived to see her hopes 
realized in the General's complete vindication ; ard died 
in 1826, in less than a year from his decease. 



HARRIET ACKLAND. 

The sto:y of female heroism, fidelity, and piety, with 
which the name of Lady Harriet Ackland is associated, 
is familiar to the readers of American history. To the 
fairer page where such examples of virtue are recorded, 
we delight to turn from the details of military achieve- 
ment. The presence that shed radiance on the sunny 
days of hope and success, relieved and brightened the 
season of disaster. Her offices of mediation softened 
the bitterness of political animosity. The benevolent 
and conciliating efforts are known by which this heroine 
endeavored to settle differences that arose between the 
captive British soldiers and their conquerors, at the 
time the troops were quartered at Cambridge after the 
surrender. 

Lady Harriet was the wife of Major Ackland, an 
officer in Burgoyne's army. She accompanied him to 
Canada in 1776, and in the disastrous campaign of the 
following year, from Canada to Saratoga. Beautiful 
and admired as she was, and accustomed to all the 
luxuries and refinements incident to rank and fortune, 
her delicate frame ill calculated to sustain the various 



148 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

hardships to be undergone, she yet shrank not from her 
husband's perils and privations in traversing the dreary 
wilderness. When he lay ill at Chambly, in a miser- 
able hut, her attention was assiduous, in defiance of 
fatigue and discomfort. When he was wounded at 
Hubbardton, she hastened from Montreal, where she 
had been at first persuaded to remain, and crossed Lake 
Champlain, resolved to leave him no more. Her vehicle 
of conveyance on the march of the army, was part of 
the time a small two-wheeled tumbril, drawn by a single 
horse, over roads almost impassable. The women fol- 
lowed in the rear of the artillery and baggage; but 
heard all the uproar in encounters with the enemy. 

On the advance of the army to Fort Edward, the 
tent in which Lady Ackland lodged took fire, the light 
being pushed over by a pet Newfoundland dog ; and 
she and her husband made their escape with the utmost 
difficulty. But no hazards dissuaded the wife from her 
purpose. She was not only the ministering angel of 
him she loved so devotedly, but won the admiration of 
the army by her amiable deportment ; continually mak- 
ing little presents to the officers belonging to his corps, 1 * 
whenever she had any thing among her stores worth 
acceptance ; and receiving in return every kind atten- 
tion which could mitigate the hardships she had daily 
to encounter.* 

In the decisive action of the seventh of October, 
Lady Ackland was again in the tumult of battle. Dur- 

* Burgoyue's Campaign ; Thacher's Militarj Journal ; and other 
authorities. 



HARRIET ACKLAND. 14& 

ing the heat of the conflict, tortured by anxiety, she 
took refuge among the wounded and dying. Her hus- 
band, commanding the grenadiers, was in the most 
exposed part of the battle, and she awaited his fate in 
awful suspense. The Baroness Riedesel, and the wives 
of two other field officers, were her companions in ap- 
prehension. One of the officers was brought in wounded, 
and the death of the other was announced. In the 
midst of the heart-rending scenes that followed, intel- 
ligence came that the British army was defeated, and 
that Major Ackland was desperately wounded and a 
prisoner. 

The unhappy lady, sustained by the counsels of her 
friend the Baroness, determined to join her husband in 
the American camp. She sent a message to General 
Burgoyne, through his aid-de-camp, Lord Petersham, to 
ask permission to depart. The British commander was 
astonished at this application. He was ready to believe 
patience and fortitude most brightly displayed in the 
female character ; but he could hardly understand the 
courage of a woman, who after suffering so long the 
agitation of suspense, exhausted by want of rest and 
want of food, was ready to brave the darkness of night 
and the drenching rain for many hours, and to deliver 
herself to the enemy, uncertain into what hands she 
might fall! "The assistance I was able to give," he 
says, " was small indeed. I had not even a cup of wine 
to offer her. All I could furnish was an open boat, and 
a few lines written on dirty and wet paper to General 
Gates, recommending her to his protection." 



150 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

How picturesque is the grouping of scenes we have 
at this point, and how do woman's strength of character 
and ardent affection shine amid the surrounding gloom! 
The army on its retreat — the sick and wounded aban- 
doned to the mercy of the victors — the state of confusion 
following disasters so fatal to British power — the defeated 
general appealing in behalf of the suffering wife, by his 
tribute, written in haste and agitation, to her grace and 
excellence, and his expression of compassion for her haid 
fortune — and her own forgetfulness of danger, in hasten- 
ing to her husband's aid ! 

She obtained from the wife of a soldier the refresh- 
ment of a little spirits and water, and set out in an open 
boat, accompanied by the British chaplain Brudenell, 
her own waiting-maid, and her husband's valet, who 
had been severely wounded in the search for his mas- 
ter when first missing from the field of battle. They 
went down the river during a violent storm of rain and 
wind, and arrived at the American out-posts in the 
night, having suffered much from wet and cold. The 
sentinel of the advance-guard heard the sound of oars, 
and hailed the boat. What must have been his surprise 
to hear that a woman had braved the storm on such an 
errand! He sent for Major Dearborn, the officer of 
the guard, before he would permit the passengers to 
land. Major Dearborn invited Lady Ackland to his 
guard-house, offered her a cup of tea, and every accom- 
modation in his power, and gave her the welcome intel- 
ligence of her husband's safety. In the morning she 
experienced the kindness of General Gates, who treated 



HARRIET ACKLAND. 151 

her with the tenderness of a parent, bestowing every 
attention which her sex and circumstances required. 
She was conveyed, under a suitable escort, to the 
quarters of General Poor on the heights, to her wounded 
husband ; and there remained till he was taken to Al- 
bany. Her resolution, and devotion to him, touched 
the feelings of the Americans, and won the admiration 
of all who heard her story. 

It is related that Major Ackland showed his sense of 
the generous treatment he had received, by doing all in 
his power, while in New York on parole, to alleviate 
the condition of American prisoners of distinction. 
After his return to England, he lost his life in defence 
of American honor. At a dinner of military gentle- 
men, a Lieutenant Lloyd threw out sneering remarks 
upon the alleged cowardice of the American troops. 
This was an indirect aspersion on the bravery of the 
unfortunate officers who had been taken captive with 
Burgoyne's army, and was felt and resented by Major 
Ackland. High words ensued, and a duel was the con- 
sequence, in which Ackland fell at the first fire. The 
shock of his death deprived Lady Harriet of reason, 
and she remained two years in that sad condition. 
After her recovery she quitted the gay world, and gave 
her hand to the Rev. Mr. Brudenell, who had accom- 
panied her on that gloomy night to the camp of Gen- 
eral Gates. She survived him many years, and died at 
an advanced age. 



152 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

The narrative of that celebrated campaign contains 
an anecdote of female compassion which, though not 
connected with the subject of this notice, may be properly 
mentioned here. 

"Colonel Cochran having been sent to Canada as a 
spy, his mission was suspected, and a large bounty 
offered for his head. While there he was taken sick, 
and knowing that he was suspected, concealed himself 
for a few days in a brush heap, within about two miles 
of the American lines, unable to make his escape, or 
even to walk. Having suffered much from his sickness 
and want of nourishment, and having discovered a log 
cabin at considerable distance from the spot where he 
was concealed, the only one in sight, he crept to it on 
his hands and knees, for the purpose of soliciting assis- 
tance. On his approach to the rear of the cabin, he 
heard three men in earnest conversation ; and it happen- 
ed that he was the subject of their discourse. Having 
heard of the heavy bounty offered for the Colonel, and 
having seen a man in the vicinity a few days before, 
answering the description of him, they were forming 
their plans, and expressing their determination to find 
his whereabouts, and take him for the sake of the 
bounty. One of the men was the owner of the cabin. 
His wife was also present ; and the others were his 
brother and brother-in-law. Soon after this conversa- 
tion, the three men departed in pursuit. He crept into 
the cabin, and frankly told the woman, who seemed 
favorably impressed towards him on account of his 



HARRIET ACKLAND. 153 

almost helpless condition, that he had overheard the 
conversation ; that he was the man of whom they were 
in search; and that he should throw himself entirely 
upon her mercy, trusting to her fidelity for protection. 
This she very kindly promised him to the utmost of 
her ability. Having received some restoratives, which 
seemed to give relief, and taken suitable nourish- 
ment, he lay down on a bed in the room for the 
purpose of taking some repose. After the men had 
been absent about three hours, they returned ; when she 
concealed him in a closet by the side of the fire-place, 
and shut the door, taking good care while the men 
were in the house, to keep near it, that if any thing 
should be wanted from within, she might be ready to 
get it herself. During the time the men were in the 
cabin, they expressed much confidence in the belief 
that the Colonel was concealed somewhere in the 
vicinity, and named many places in which they intend- 
ed to look for him. Having taken some food, and 
otherwise prepared themselves, the men departed to 
renew their search. 

" Soon after they retired, the woman, not consider- 
ing the Colonel's present situation safe, proposed that 
he should conceal himself at some distance from the 
cabin, where she might secretly bring him food, and 
render such other assistance as he needed. She accor- 
dingly directed him to take post or\. a certain hill about 
half a mile distant, where he might be able to discover 
any person's approach, and to flee, if he was able, 
should it become necessary. He manifested an incli- 
7* 



154 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

nation to resume his former position in the brush heap, 
which was in the midst of a patch of ground that had 
been cut over for a fallow ; but she told him her husband 
intended to burn it the next day, and in that case he 
would certainly be discovered, or perish in the confla- 
gration. He then submitted entirely to her directions; 
and crept along to the hill in the best way he could. 
He remained sometime in this place of concealment, 
undiscovered by any one except this faithful Rahab of 
the forest, who like a good Samaritan, poured in the oil 
and wine, until his strength was in a measure restored, 
and he was enabled to return to his country and his 
home. 

"Some years after the close of the war, and while 
the Colonel lived at Ticonderoga, he accidentally met 
with this kind-hearted woman, whose name I have not 
been able to ascertain, and rewarded her handsomely 
for her fidelity." 



XL 



HANNAH ERWIN ISRAEL. 

About the close of the year 1777, while the com- 
mander-in-chief of the British forces was in possession 
of Philadelphia, a foot passenger might have been seen 
on the road leading from Wilmington to that city. He 
was a young man of tall figure and powerful frame, 
giving evidence of great muscular strength, to which a 
walk of over thirty miles, under ordinary circumstances, 
would be a trifle. But the features of the traveller 
were darkened by anxiety and apprehension ; and it 
was more the overtasking of the mind than the body 
which occasioned the weariness and lassitude under 
which he was plainly laboring. His dress was that of 
a simple citizen, and he was enveloped in a large cloak, 
affording ample protection against the severity of the 
weather, as well as serving to conceal sundry parcels 
of provisions, and a bag of money, with which 
he was laden. It was long after dark before he 
reached the ferry; but renewed hope and confidence 
filled his heart as he approached the termination of his 
journey. 



156 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION 

Sir William Howe, it will be remembered, had entered 
the capital towards the end of September, after much 
manoeuvring and several battles — Washington having 
made ineffectual efforts to prevent the accomplishment 
of his object. He was received with a welcome, 
apparently cordial, by the timid or interested citizens. 
His first care was to reduce the fortifications on the 
Delaware, and remove the obstructions prepared by the 
Americans to prevent the British fleet from ascending 
the river. While Fort Mifflin at Mud Island, and 
Fort Mercer at Red Bank, were occupied by their 
garrisons, he could have no communication with his 
fleet, and was in danger of being speedily compelled 
to evacuate the city. Count Donop, detached with 
the Hessian troops to take possession of the fort at 
Red Bank, was repulsed and mortally wounded. The 
invader's fortune, however, triumphed ; and the Ameri- 
cans were finally driven from their posts. Their water 
force was compelled to retire from the fire of the 
batteries ; and the British at length gained free com- 
munication, by way of the Delaware, between their 
army and the shipping. Thus the reverses in New 
Jersey and Pennsylvania had cast a gloom over the 
country, which could not be altogether dispelled even 
by the brilliant victories of Saratoga and the capture 
of Burgoyne and his army. The condition of the 
American army, when it retired into winter quarters at 
Valley Forge, was deplorable enough to change hope 
into despair, and presented truly a spectacle unparalleled 



UANNAIJ ERWIN ISRAEL. 157 

in history. "Absolute destitution held high court ; and 
never was the chivalric heroism of patriotic suffering 
more tangibly manifested than by that patriot-band 
within those frail log huts that barely covered them from 
the falling snow, or sheltered them from the keen wintry 
blasts." This privation of necessary food and clothing 
during one of the most rigorous winters ever experi- 
enced in the country — this misery — the detail of which 
is too familiar to need repetition, was endured by the 
continental soldiers at the same time that the English 
in the metropolis were revelling in unrestrained luxury 
and indulgence.* Many "whig families, meanwhile, 
who remained in Philadelphia, plundered and insulted 
by the soldiers, wanted the comforts of life, and received 
assistance clandestinely from their friends at a distance. 

To return to our narrative. When the traveller 
arrived at the ferry, he was promptly hailed by the sen- 
tinel, with " Who goes there ?" 

" A friend," was the reply. 

" The countersign !" 

The countersign for the night was promptly given. 

* Marshall'9 MS. Journal says, — December 28th, 1777, " Our 
affairs wear a very gloomy aspect. Great part of our army gone into 
winter quarters ; those in camp wanting breeches, shoes, stockings 
[and] blankets, and by accounts brought yesterday, were in want of 
flour." * * * " Our enemies revelling in balls, attended 
with every degree of luxury and excess in the city ; rioting and 
wantonly using our houses, utensils and furniture; all this [and] a 
numberless number of other abuses, we endure from that handful of 
banditti, to the amount of six or seven thousand men, headed by that 
monster of rapine, General Howe." 



158 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

" Pass, friend !'' said the soldier ; and the other went 
on quickly. 

Israel Israel was a native of Pennsylvania. He had 
left America at twenty-one, for the island of Barbadoes; 
and by nine or ten years of patient industry had amass- 
ed considerable property. He returned rich to his 
native country ; but in a few months after his marriage 
the war broke out, and his whole fortune was lost or 
sacrificed by agents. He had resolved, with his bro- 
ther, at the commencement of the struggle, to take up 
arms in the cause of freedom. But the necessity was 
imperative that one should remain for the protection of 
the helpless females of the family ; and their entreaties 
not to be left exposed to a merciless enemy without a 
brother's aid, at last prevailed. Israel and Joseph drew 
lots to determine which should become a soldier. The 
lot fell upon the younger and unmarried one. At this 
period the residence of Israel was on a small farm near 
Wilmington, Delaware. His mother had removed with 
her family to Philadelphia, her house at Newcastle being 
thought too much exposed in the vicissitudes of war. 
After the occupation of the capital by the British, they 
endured severe hardships, sometimes suffering the want 
of actual necessaries. Israel watched over their wel- 
fare with incessant anxiety. 

The knowledge that his beloved ones were in want 
of supplies, and that his presence was needed, deter- 
mined him to enter the city at this time, notwithstand- 
ing the personal hazard it involved. One of his tory 
neighbors, who professed the deepest sympathy for his 



HANNAH ERWIN ISRAEL. 159 

feelings, procured for him the countersign for the night. 
He had thus been enabled to elude the vigilance of the 
sentinel. 

When arrived at his mother's dwelling, Mr. Israel 
found that it was in the possession of several soldiers, 
quartered upon the family. Among them was a savage- 
looking Hessian, with aspect of itself quite enough to 
terrify timid women. But all annoyances, and the fa- 
tigues of his long walk, were forgotten in the joyful 
meeting. A still more pleasing surprise was reserved 
for him ; his young brother, Joseph, was that very 
hour on a secret visit to the family. For some hours of 
the evening the household circle was once more com- 
plete. 

But such happiness, in those times of peril, was 
doomed to be short-lived. At eleven o'clock, while the 
family were seated at supper, the tramp of horses was 
heard without ; and the rough voices of soldiers clamored 
at the door. Within, all was confusion ; and the terrified 
women entreated the brothers to fly. They followed 
the younger with frantic haste up the stairs, where he 
left his uniform, and made his escape from the roof of 
the house. The knocking and shouting continued be- 
low ; Israel descended, accompanied by the pale and 
trembling females, and himself opened the door. The 
intruders rushed in. At their head was the Hessian 
sergeant, who instantly seized the young man's arm, 
exclaiming, " We have caught him at last — the rebel 
rascal !" 

Mr. Israel's presence of mind never forsook him 



160 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

under the most appalling circumstances. He was sen- 
sible of the imminence of his own danger, and that his 
brother's safety could be secured only by delay. He 
shook off the grasp of the officer, and calmly demanded 
what was meant, and who it was that accused him of 
being a rebel. 

" There he is !" replied the Hessian, pointing to Caesar, 
a slave Mr. Israel had brought from the West Indies, 
and given his mother for a guard. 

The master fixed upon the negro his stern and pene- 
trating look so steadfastly, that Caesar trembled and 
hung his head. " Dare you, Caesar, call me rebel ?" he 
exclaimed. " Gentlemen" — the muscles of his mouth 
worked into a sneer as he pronounced the word — " there 
is some mistake here. My brother Joe is the person 
meant, I presume. Let me fetch the uniform ; and 
then you can judge for yourselves. Caesar, come with 
me." 

So saying, and taking the black by the arm with a 
vice-like grasp, he led him up stairs. " Not one word, 
you rascal," was whispered in his ear, " or I kill you 
upon the spot." The negro drew his breath hard and 
convulsively, but dared not speak. The uniform was 
produced and exhibited ; and Israel made efforts to put 
it on before his captors. The person whom it fitted 
being short and slight in figure, its ludicrous dispropor- 
tion to the towering height and robust form of the elder 
brother, convinced the soldiers of their mistake ; and 
the sergeant made awkward apologies, shaking the hand 
of the man he had so lately called a rebel, assuring him 



HANNAH EVtWIN ISRAEL. 161 

he had no doubt he was an honest and loyal subject ; 
and that he would take care his fidelity should be men- 
tioned in the proper quarter. 

" And now," he said, " as your supper is ready, we 
will sit down." He seated himself beside his host, 
whose resentment at the familiarity was tempered by 
the thought that his brother was saved by the well- 
timed deceit. The ladies also were compelled to take 
their places, and to listen in silence to the coarse re- 
marks of their unwelcome guest. With rude protes- 
tations of good will, and promises of patronage, he 
mingled boastful details of his exploits in slaughtering 
" the rebels," that caused his auditors to shudder with 
horror. Mr. Israel used to relate afterwards that he 
grasped the knife he was using, and raised it to strike 
down the savage ; but that his mother's look of ago- 
nized entreaty withheld the blow. The Hessian con- 
tinued his recital, accompanied by many bitter oaths. 

"That Paoli affair," cried he, "was capital! I was 
with General Grey in that attack. It was just after 
midnight when we forced the outposts, and not a noise 
was heard so loud as the dropping of a musket. How 
the fellows turned out of their encampment when they 
heard us! What a running about — barefoot and half 
clothed — and in the light of their own fires ! These 
showed us where to chase them, while they could not 
see us. We killed three hundred of the rebels with the 
bayonet ; I stuck them myself like so many pigs — one 
after another — till the blood ran out of the touchhole ot 
my musket." 



1C2 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

The details of the Hessian were interrupted by Mr. 
Israel's starting to his feet, with face pale with rage, 
convulsed lips, and clenched hands. The catastrophe 
that might have ensued was prevented by a faint shriek 
from his young sister, who fell into his arms in a swoon. 
The sergeant's horrible boastings thus silenced, and 
the whole room in confusion, he bade the family good 
night, saying he was on duty, and presently quitted the 
house. 

The parting of those who had just gone through so 
agitating a scene was now to take place. Caesar was 
sternly questioned, and reprimanded for his perfidy ; 
but the black excused himself by pleading that he had 
been compelled to do as he had done. For the future, 
with streaming eyes, he promised the strictest fidelity ; 
and to his credit be it said, remained steadfast in the 
performance of this promise. 

Having bidden adieu to his family, Mr. Israel set 
forth on his journey homeward. He arrived only to 
be made a prisoner. The loyalist who had given him 
the countersign, had betrayed the secret of his expe- 
dition. He and his wife's brother were immediately 
seized and carried on board the frigate Roebuck, lying 
in the Delaware, a few miles from the then borough of 
Wilmington — and directly opposite his farm — in ordei 
to be tried as spies. 

Being one of the " Committee of Safety," the posi- 
tion of Mr. Israel, under such an accusation, was ex- 
tremely critical. On board the ship he was treated with 
the utmost severity. His watch, silver shoe-buckles, 



HANNAH ERWIN ISRAEL. 163 

and various articles of clothing were taken from him ; 
his bed was a coil of ropes on deck, without covering 
from the bitter cold of the night air ; and to all appear- 
ances his fate was already decided. The testimony of 
his tory neighbors was strong against him. Several 
were ready to swear to the fact, that while the loyal 
population of the country had willingly furnished their 
share of the provisions needed by the ships of war, he 
had been heard to say repeatedly, that he " would sooner 
drive his cattle as a present to General Washington, 
than receive thousands of dollars in British gold for 
them." 

On being informed of this speech, the commander 
gave orders that a detachment of soldiers should pro- 
ceed to drive the rebel's cattle, then grazing in a mea- 
dow in full view, down to the river, and slaughter them 
in the face of the prisoners. 

What, meanwhile, must have been the feelings of the 
young wife — herself about to become a mother — when 
her husband and brother were led away in her very 
sight ? The farm was a mile or more from the river ; 
but there was nothing to intercept the view — the ground 
from the meadow sloping down to the water. Mrs. 
Israel was at this period about nineteen years of age ; 
and is described as of middle height, and slight but 
symmetrical figure ; of fair complexion, with clear 
blue eyes and dark hair ; her manners modest and retir- 
ing. She was devoted to her family and her domestic 
concerns. It needed the trying scenes by which she 
was surrounded, to develop the heroism which, in times 



164 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

more peaceful, might have been unmarked by those who 
knew her most intimately. 

From her position on the look-out, she saw the sol- 
diers land from the ships, shoulder arms, and advance 
towards the meadow. In an instant she divined their 
purpose ; and her resolution was taken. With a boy- 
eight years old, whom she bade follow her at his utmost 
speed, she started off, determined to baffle the enemy, 
and save the cattle at the peril of her life. Down went 
the bars, and followed by the little boy, she ran to drive 
the herd to the opening. 

The soldiers called out repeatedly to her to desist, 
and threatened, if she did not, to fire upon her. 

"Fire away!" cried the heroic woman. They fired! 
The balls flew thickly around her. The frightened cat- 
tle ran in every direction over the field. 

" This way !" she called to the boy, nothing daunted ; 
" this way, Joe ! Head them there ! Stop them, Joe ! 
Do not let one escape !" 

And not one did escape ! The bullets fired by the 
cowardly British soldiers continued to whistle around 
her person. The little boy, paralyzed by terror, fell to 
the ground. She seized him by the arm, lifted him over 
the fence, and herself drove the cattle into the barn- 
yard. The assailants, baffled by the courage of a wo- 
man, and probably not daring, for fear of the neighbors, 
to invade the farm-houses, retraced their steps, and re- 
turned disappointed to the ship. 

All this scene passed in sight of the officers of the 
"Roebuck" and the two prisoners. The agony of 



HANNAH ERWIN ISRAEL. 165 

suspense and fear endured by the husband and brother, 
when they saw the danger to which the wife exposed 
herself, may be better imagined than described. It may 
also be conceived how much they exulted in her 
triumph. 

The trial was held on board the ship. The tory wit- 
nesses were examined in due form ; and it was but too evi- 
dent that the lives of the prisoners were in great danger. 
A kind-hearted sailor sought an opportunity of speaking 
in private with Mr. Israel, and asked him if he were a 
freemason. The answer was in the affirmative. The 
sailor then informed him that a lodge was held on ship- 
board, and the officers, who belonged to it, were to 
meet that night. 

The prisoners were called up before their judges, and 
permitted to answer to the accusations against them. 
Mr. Israel, in bold but respectful language, related his 
story; and acknowledged his secret visit to Philadelphia, 
not in the character of a spy, but to carry relief to his 
suffering parent and her family. He also acknowledged 
having said, as was testified, that " he would rather give 
his cattle to Washington, or destroy the whole herd 
than sell them for British gold." This trait of magna- 
nimity might not have been so appreciated by the 
enemies of his country, as to operate in his favor, but 
that — watching his opportunity, he made to the com- 
manding officer the secret sign of masonic brotherhood. 
The effect was instantly observable. The officer's stern 
countenance softened ; his change of opinion and that 
of the other judges, became evident; and after some 



166 WOMEN OF THE REV01UTI0N. 

further examination, the court was broken up. The 
informants, and those who had borne testimony against 
the prisoners, hung their heads in shame at the severe 
rebuke of the court, for their cowardly conduct in 
betraying, and preferring charges against an honorable 
man, bound on a mission of love and duty to his aged 
mother. The acquitted prisoners were dismissed, 
loaded with presents of pins, handkerchiefs, and other 
articles not to be purchased at that time, for the intrepid 
wife ; and were sent on shore in a splendid barge, as a 
mark of special honor from the officer in command. 

Such was the adventure in which the courage and 
patriotism of the subject of this notice was displayed. 
The records of the Grand Lodge of Pennsylvania, of 
which Mr. Israel was Grand Master for many years, 
bear testimony to his having been saved from an igno- 
minious death by masonry. Mrs. Israel's family name 
was Erwin ; her ancestors were Quakers who came 
with Penn, her parents native Americans; and she 
herself was born in Wilmington, Delaware. Her first 
meeting with her husband was romantic enough Mr. 
Israel had sailed in a sloop, or packet, from Philadelphia, 
to visit New Castle, where his mother and family resided. 
He observed on deck an extremely pretty girl, hardly 
seventeen years of age, and very neatly and tastefully 
dressed, with the finest turned foot and ankle in the 
world. All who went on such voyages were then 
obliged to furnish themselves with provisions ; and his 
attention was drawn by the young girl's kindly distribu- 
tion, of her little stock, handing it about from one to 



HANNAH ERWIN ISRAEL. 167 

another, till but little was left for her own portion. In 
passing him, she modestly hesitated a moment, and then 
offered him a share. This led to conversation ; he 
learned that she was the daughter of highly respectable 
parents, and resided in Wilmington. Love at first 
sight was as common in those days as now. After 
seeing his mother, he visited Wilmington ; became 
better acquainted, offered himself and was accepted; 
and on his marriage, rented the farm above mentioned, 
and commenced life anew. It may be proper to mention 
here — that the castle from which the town of New 
Castle took its name, was in very early days the proper- 
ty and residence of his ancestors. Subsequently he 
became the purchaser of the old castle ; and removed 
the tiles that covered it, with the vane that graced it, to 
his country-seat, where part of them, several hundred 
years old, are still to be seen. 

Mr. Israel died in 1621, at the age of seventy-eight. 
The death of his wife took place at his country-seat 
near Philadelphia, at the age of fifty-six. She was the 
mother of thirteen children, many of whom died young. 
But two are now living — and reside in Philadelphia. 
One of them is the accomplished lady — herself the wife 
of a gallant officer thirty-five years engaged in the 
service of his country — from whom I received these 
particulars. 

To this glance at the condition of some of the 
citizens of Philadelphia at that time, may be added a 
description, from a lady's letter to her friend, of the 
first entrance of the British army into the city. 



168 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

" We had for a neighbor, and an intimate acquain- 
tance, a very amiable English gentleman, who had been 
in the British army, and had left the service on marry- 
ing a rich and excellent lady of Philadelphia, some years 
before. He endeavored to give my mother confidence 
that the inhabitants would not be ill-treated. He ad- 
vised that we should be all well-dressed, and that we 
should keep our houses closed. The army marched in, 
and took possession of the town in the morning. We 
were up stairs, and saw them pass to the State House. 
They looked well — clean and well-clad ; and the con- 
trast between them and our poor barefooted and rag- 
ged troops was very great, and caused a feeling of 
despair. It was a solemn and impressive day ; but I 
saw no exultation in the enemy, nor indeed in those 
who were reckoned favorable to their success. Early 
in the afternoon Lord Cornwallis's suite arrived, and 
took possession of my mother's dwelling. But my mo- 
ther was appalled by the numerous train in her house, 
and shrank from having such inmates ; for a guard was 
mounted at the door, and the yard filled with soldiers 
and baggage of every description ; and I well remem- 
ber what we thought of the haughty looks of Lord 
Rawdon and the other aid-de-camp, as they traversed 
the apartments. My mother desired to speak with 
Lord Cornwallis, and he attended her in the front par- 
lor. She told him of her situation, and how impossible 
it would be for her to stay in her own house with such 
a train as composed his lordship's establishment. He 
behaved with great politeness to her ; said he should 



MARY REDMOND. 169 

be sorry to give trouble, and would have other quarters 
looked out for him. They withdrew that very after- 
noon, and we felt glad of the exemption. But it did not 
last long; for directly the quartermasters were employed 
in billeting the troops, and we had to find room for two 
officers of artillery ; and afterwards, in addition, for 
two gentlemen, secretaries of Lord Howe." 

" General Howe, during the time he stayed in Phila- 
delphia, seized and kept for his own use Mary Pember- 
ton's coach and horses, in which he used to ride about 
the town." 

" My wife," says Marshall in his manuscript diary, 
February 14th, 1778, " looks upon every Philadelphian 
who comes to see us as a person suffering in a righteous 
cause, and entitled to partake of our hospitality." Tra- 
dition has preserved, in several families, anecdotes illus- 
trative of the strait to which even women and children 
were then reduced. One of Mary Redmond may be 
mentioned. She was the daughter of a patriot some- 
what distinguished among his neighbors in Philadelphia. 
Many of her relatives were loyalists ; and she was 
playfully called among them " the little black-eyed rebel." 
She was accustomed to assist several women whose 
husbands were in the American army, to procure intel- 
ligence. The despatches were usually sent from their 
friends by a boy, who carried them stitched in the back 
of his coat. He came into the city bringing provisions 
to market. One morning, when there was some reason 
to fear he was suspected, and his movements watched 
by the enemy, Mary undertook to get the papers in safety 
8 



170 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

from him. She went, as usual, to the market, and in a 
pretended game of romps, threw her shawl over the 
boy's head, and thus secured the prize. She hastened 
with the papers to her anxious friends, who read them 
by stealth, after the windows had been carefully closed. 
When the news came of Burgoyne's surrender, and the 
whig women were secretly rejoicing, the sprightly girl, 
not daring to give vent openly to her exultation, put her 
head up the chimney and gave a shout for Gates. 



XIL 



LYDIA DARRAH.* 

On the second day of December, 1777, late in the 
afternoon, an officer in the British uniform ascended the 
steps of a house in Second street, Philadelphia, imme- 
diately opposite the quarters occupied by General Howe, 
who, at that time, had full possession of the city. The 
house was plain and neat in its exterior, and well known 
to be tenanted by William and Lydia Darrah, members of 
the Society of Friends. It was the place chosen by 
the superior officers of the army for private conference, 
whenever it was necessary to hold consultations on 
subjects of importance ; and selected, perhaps, on ac- 
count of the unobtrusive character of its inmates, whose 
religion inculcated meekness and forbearance, and for- 
bade them to practise the arts of war. 

The officer, who seemed quite familiar with the man- 

* Sometimes spelled Darrach. This anecdote is given in the first 
number of the American Quarterly Review, and is said to be taken from 
Lydia's own narration. It is mentioned or alluded to by several other 
authorities, and in letters written at the time. The story is familiar ta 
many persons in Philadelphia, who heard it from their parents ; so 
that there appears no reason to doubt its authenticity. 



172 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

sion, knocked at the door. It was opened ; and in the 
neatly-furnished parlor he met the mistress, who spoke 
to him, calling him by name. It was the adjutant- 
general ; and he appeared in haste to give an order. 
This was to desire that the back-room above stairs 
might be prepared for the reception that evening of 
himself and his friends, who were to meet there and 
remain late. " And be sure, Lydia," he concluded, 
" that your family are all in bed at an early hour. I 
shall expect you to attend to this request. When our 
guests are ready to leave the house, I will myself give 
you notice, that you may let us out, and extinguish the 
fire and candles." 

Having delivered this order with an emphatic man- 
ner which showed that he relied much on the prudence 
and discretion of the person he addressed, the adjutant- 
general departed. Lydia betook herself to getting all 
things in readiness. But the words she had heard, es- 
pecially the injunction to retire early, rang in her ears ; 
and she could not divest herself of the indefinable feel- 
ing that something of importance was in agitation. 
While her hands were busy in the duties that devolved 
upon her, her mind was no less actively at work. The 
evening closed in, and the officers came to the place of 
meeting. Lydia had ordered all her family to bed, and 
herself admitted the guests, after which she retired to 
her own apartment, and threw herself, without undress- 
ing, upon the bed. 

But sleep refused to visit her eyelids. Her vague ap- 
prehensions gradually assumed more definite shape. 



LYDIA DARK AH. 173 

She became more and more uneasy, till her nervous 
restlessness amounted to absolute terror. Unable longer 
to resist the impulse — not of curiosity, but surely of a far 
higher feeling— she slid from the bed, and taking off her 
shoes, passed noiselessly from her chamber and along the 
entry. Approaching cautiously the apartment in which 
the officers were assembled, she applied her ear to the 
key-hole. For a few moments she could distinguish 
but a word or two amid the murmur of voices ; yet 
what she did hear but stimulated her eager desire to 
learn the important secret of the conclave. 

At length there was profound silence, and a voice 
was heard reading a paper aloud. It was an order for 
the troops to quit the city on the night of the fourth, 
and march out to a secret attack upon the American 
army, then encamped at White Marsh. 

Lydia had heard enough. She retreated softly to her 
own room, and laid herself quietly on the bed. In the 
deep stillness that reigned through the house, she could 
hear the beating of her own heart — the heart now throb- 
bing with emotions to which no speech could give utter- 
ance. It seemed to her that but a few moments had 
elapsed, when there was a knocking at her door. She 
knew well what the signal meant, but took no heed. It 
was repeated, and more loudly ; still she gave no an- 
swer. Again, and yet more loudly, the knocks were 
repeated ; and then she rose quickly, and opened the 
door. 

It was the adjutant-general, who came to inform 
her they were ready to depart. Lydia let them out, 



174 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

fastened the house, and extinguished the lights and fire. 
Again she returned to her chamber, and to bed ; but re- 
pose was a stranger for the rest of the night. Her 
mind was more disquieted than ever. She thought of 
the danger that threatened the lives of thousands of her 
countrymen, and of the ruin that impended over the 
whole land. Something must be done, and that imme- 
diately, to avert this wide-spread destruction. Should 
she awaken her husband and inform him ? That would 
be to place him in special jeopardy, by rendering him a 
partaker of her secret ; and he might, too, be less wary 
and prudent than herself. No ; come what might, she 
would encounter the risk alone. After a petition for 
heavenly guidance, her resolution was formed ; and she 
waited with composure, though sleep was impossible, 
till the dawn of day. Then she waked her husband, 
and informed him flour was wanted for the use of the 
household, and that it was necessary she should go to 
Frankford to procure it. This was no uncommon oc- 
currence ; and her declining the attendance of the 
maid-servant excited little surprise. Taking the bag 
with her, she walked through the snow; having stop- 
ped first at head-quarters, obtained access to Gen- 
eral Howe, and secured his written permission to pass 
the British lines. 

The feelings of a wife and mother — one whose reli- 
gion was that of love, and whose life was but a quiet 
round of domestic duties — bound on an enterprise so 
hazardous, and uncertain whether her life might not be 
the forfeit, may be better imagined than described. 



LYDIA DARRAH. 175 

Lydia reached Frankford, distant four or five miles, and 
deposited her bag at the mill. Now commenced the 
dangers of her undertaking ; for she pressed forward 
with all haste towards the outposts of the American 
army. Her determination was to apprise General 
Washington of the danger. 

She was met on her way by an American officer, 
who had been selected by General Washington to gain 
information respecting the movements of the enemy. 
According to some authorities, this was Lieutenant- 
Colonel Craig, of the light horse. He immediately 
recognized her, and inquired whither she was going. 
In reply, she prayed him to alight and walk with her; 
which he did, ordering his men to keep in sight. To 
him she disclosed the secret, after having obtained 
from him a solemn promise not to betray her individu- 
ally, since the British might take vengeance on her and 
her family. 

The officer thanked her for her timely warning, and 
directed her to go to a house near at hand, where she 
might get something to eat. But Lydia preferred 
returning at once ; and did so, while the officer made 
all haste to the commander-in-chief. Preparations were 
immediately made to give the enemy a fitting recep- 
tion. 

With a heart lightened and filled with thankfulness, 
the intrepid woman pursued her way homeward, carry- 
ing the bag of flour which had served as the ostensible 
object of her journey. None suspected the grave, 
demure Quakeress of having snatched from the English 



176 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

their anticipated victory. Her demeanor was, as usual, 
quiet, orderly, and subdued, and she attended to the 
duties of her family with her wonted composure. But 
her heart beat, as late on the appointed night, she 
watched from her window the departure of the army — 
on what secret expedition bound, she knew too well! 
She listened breathlessly to the sound of their footsteps 
and the trampling of horses, till it died away in the 
distance, and silence reigned through the city. 

Time never appeared to pass so slowly as during the 
interval which elapsed between the marching out and 
the return of the British troops. When at last the 
distant roll of the drum proclaimed their approach; 
when the sounds came nearer and nearer, and Lydia, 
who was watching at the window, saw the troops pass in 
martial order, the agony of anxiety she felt was too 
much for her strength, and she retreated from her post, 
not daring to ask a question, or manifest the least 
curiosity as to the event. 

A sudden and loud knocking at her door was not 
calculated to lessen her apprehensions. She felt that 
the safety of her family depended on her self-possession 
at this critical moment. The visitor was the adjutant- 
general, who summoned her to his apartment. With 
a pale cheek, but composed, for she placed her trust in 
a higher Power, Lydia obeyed the summons. 

The officer's face was clouded, and his expression 
stern. He locked the door with an air of mystery 
when Lydia entered, and motioned her to a seat. After 
a moment of silence, he said — 



LYDIA DARRAH. 177 

" Were any of your family up, Lydia, on the night 
when I received company in this house ?" 

"No." was the unhesitating reply. " They all retired 
at eight o'clock." 

" It is very strange" — said the officer, and mused a 
few minutes. " You, I know, Lydia, were asleep ; for 
I knocked at your door three times before you heard me 
— yet it is certain that we were betrayed. I am 
altogether at a loss to conceive who could have given 
the information of our intended attack to General 
Washington ! On arriving near his encampment we 
found his cannon mounted, his troops under arms, and 
so prepared at every point to receive us, that we have 
been compelled to march back without injuring our 
enemy, like a parcel of fools." 

It is not known whether the officer ever discovered 
to whom he was indebted for the disappointment. 

But the pious quakeress blessed God for her preserva- 
tion, and rejoiced that it was not necessary for her to 
utter an untruth in her own defence. And all who 
admire examples of courage and patriotism, especially 
those who enjoy the fruits of them, must honor the 
name of Lydia Darrah. 



XIII. 



REBECCA FRANKS. 

" The celebrated Miss Franks" — so distinguished for 
intelligence and high accomplishment, in Revolutionary- 
times, could not properly be passed over in a series of 
notices of remarkable women of that period. In the 
brilliant position she occupied in fashionable society, 
she exerted, as may well be believed, no slight 
influence ; for wit and beauty are potent champions in 
any cause for which they choose to arm themselves. 
That her talents were generally employed on the side 
of humanity and justice, — that the pointed shafts of her 
wit, which spared neither friend nor foe, were aimed to 
chastise presumption and folly — we may infer from the 
amiable disposition which it is recorded she possessed. 
Admired in fashionable circles, and courted for the 
charms of her conversation, she must have found many 
opportunities of exercising her feminine privilege of 
softening asperities and alleviating suffering — as well 
as of humbling the arrogance of those whom military 
success rendered regardless of the feelings of others. 
Though a decided loyalist, her satire did not spare 



REBECCA FRANKS. 



179 



those whose opinions she favored. It is related of her, 
that at a splendid ball given by the officers of the 
British army to the ladies of New York, she ventured 
one of those jests frequently uttered, which must have 
been severely felt in the faint prospect that existed of 
a successful termination to the war. During an interval 
of dancing, Sir Henry Clinton, previously engaged in 
conversation with Miss Franks, called out to the musi- 
cians, "Give us 'Britons, strike home.'" "The com- 
mander-in-chief," exclaimed she, " has made a mistake ; 
he meant to say, ' Britons— go home.'" 

The keenness of her irony, and her readiness at 
repartee, were not less promptly shown in sharp tilting 
with the American officers. At the festival of the 
Mischianza, where even whig ladies were present, 
Miss Franks had appeared as one of the princesses. 
She remained in Philadelphia after its evacuation by 
the British troops. Lieutenant-Colonel Jack Steward 
of Maryland, dressed in a fine suit of scarlet, took an 
early occasion to pay his compliments ; and gallantly 
sa id — »I have adopted your colors, my princess, the 
better to secure a courteous reception. Deign to smile 
on a true knight." To this covert taunt Miss Franks 
made no reply : but turning to the company who sur- 
rounded her, exclaimed — " How the ass glories in the 
lion's skin !" The same officer met with another 
equally severe rebuff, while playing with the same 
weapons. The conversation of the company was inter- 
rupted by a loud clamor from the street, which caused 



180 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

them to hasten to the windows. High head-dresses 
were then the reigning fashion among the English belles. 
A female appeared in the street., surrounded by a crowd 
of idlers, ragged in her apparel, and barefoot; but 
adorned with a towering head-dress in the extreme of 
the mode. Miss Franks readily perceived the intent 
of this pageant ; and on the lieutenant-colonel's observ- 
ing that the woman was equipped in the English fashion, 
replied, " Not altogether, colonel ; for though the 
style of her head is British, her shoes and stockings are 
in the genuine continental fashion !"* 

Many anecdotes of her quick and brilliant wit are 
extant in the memory of individuals, and many sarcastic 
speeches attributed to her have been repeated. It is 
represented that her information was extensive, and 
that few were qualified to enter the lists with her. 
General Charles Lee, in the humorous letter he address- 
ed to her — a jeu d'esprit she is said to have received 
with serious anger — calls her " a lady who has had every 
human and divine advantage." 

Rebecca Franks was the daughter and youngest child 
of David Franks, a Jewish merchant, who emigrated to 
this country about a century since. He married an 
Englishwoman before coming to America, and had 
three sons and two daughters. The eldest daughter 
married Andrew Hamilton, brother to the well-known 
proprietor of " The Woodlands." After the termination 
of the war, Rebecca married General Henry Johnson, 
a British officer of great merit, and accompanied him 

* Garden. 



REBECCA FRANKS. 181 

to England. He distinguished himself by some act of 
gallantry in one of the outbreaks of rebellion in Ireland, 
and received the honor of knighthood. Their residence 
was at Bath, where their only surviving son still lives. 
The other son was killed at the battle of Waterloo. 

The lady who furnished the above details, informed 
me that her brother was entertained in 1810, at Lady 
Johnson's house in Bath, where she was living in ele- 
gant style, and exercising with characteristic grace the 
duties of hospitality, and the virtues that adorn social life. 
•He described her person as of the middle height, rather 
inclining to embonpoint ; and her expi'ession of coun- 
tenance as very agreeable, with fine eyes. Her man- 
ners were frank and cheerful, and she appeared happy 
in contributing to the happiness of others. Sir Henry 
was at that time living. 

It is said that Lady Johnson, not long after this 
period, expressed to a young American officer her peni- 
tence for her former toryism, and her pride and pleasure 
in the victories of her countrymen on the Niagara fron- 
tier, in the war of 1812. It has been remarked that favor- 
able sentiments towards the Americans are general anions: 
loyalists residing in England ; while, on the other hand, 
the political animosity of Revolutionary times is still ex- 
tant in the British American Colonies. A loyal spinster 
of four-score residing in one of these, when on a visit to 
one of her friends, some two years since, saw on the Avails, 
among several portraits of distinguished men, a print 
of " the traitor Washington." She was so much trou- 
bled at the sight, that her friend, to appease her, ordered 



182 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

it to be taken down and put away during her visit. A 
story is told also of a gentleman high in office in the same 
colony, on whom an agent of the " New York Albion" 
called to deliver the portrait of Washington which the 
publisher that year presented to his subscribers. The 
gentleman, highly insulted, ordered the astonished agent 

to take " the thing" out of his sight, and to strike 

his name instantly from the list. 

Miss Franks, it has been mentioned, was one of the 
princesses of the Mischianza. This Italian word, sig- 
nifying a medley or mixture, was applied to an enter- 
tainment, or series of entertainments, given by the 
British officers in Philadelphia as a parting compliment 
to Sir William Howe, just before his relinquishment of 
command to Sir Henry Clinton, and departure to Eng- 
land. Some of his enemies called it his triumph on 
leaving America unconquered. A description of this 
singular fete may be interesting to many readers ; I 
therefore abridge one written, it is said, by Major 
Andre for an English Lady's Magazine. 

I have seen a fac simile of the tickets issued, in a 
volume of American Historical and Literary curiosities. 
The names are in a shield, on which is a view of the sea 
with the setting sun, and on a wreath the words " Luceo 
discedens, aucto splendore resurgam." At the top is 
General Howe's crest, with the words " Vive vale.'' 
Around the shield runs a vignette ; and various military 
trophies fill up the back-ground. 

The entertainment was given on the 18th of May, 
1778. It commenced with a grand regatta, in three 



REBECCA FRANKS. 183 

divisions. In the first was the Ferret galley, on board 
of which were several general officers and ladies. In 
the centre, the Hussar galley bore Sir William and Lord 
Howe, Sir Henry Clinton, their suite, and many ladies. 
The Cornwallis galley brought up the rear — General 
Knyphhausen and suite, three British generals, and 
ladies, being on board. On each quarter of these gal- 
leys, and forming their division, were five flat boats 
lined with green cloth, and filled with ladies and gentle- 
men. In front were three flat boats, with bands of 
music. Six barges rowed about each flank, to keep off 
the swarm of boats in the river. The galleys were 
dressed in colors and streamers ; the ships lying at 
anchor were magnificently decorated ; and the trans- 
port ships with colors flying, which extended in a line 
the whole length of the city, were crowded, as well as 
the wharves, with spectators. The rendezvous was at 
Knight's wharf, at the northern extremity of the city. 
The company embarked at half-past four, the three divi- 
sions moving slowly down to the music. Arrived oppo- 
site Market wharf, at a signal all rested on their oars, 
and the music played " God save the king," answered 
by three cheers from the vessels. The landing was at 
the Old Fort, a little south of the town, and in front of 
the building prepared for the company — a few hundred 
yards from the water. This regatta was gazed at from 
the wharves and warehouses by all the uninvited popu- ' 
lation of the city. 

When the general's barge pushed for shore, a salute 
of seventeen guns was fired from his Majesty's ship 



184 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Roebuck ; and after an interval, seventeen from the 
Vigilant. The procession advanced through an avenue 
formed by two files of grenadiers, each supported by a 
line of light-horse. The avenue led to a spacious lawn, 
lined with troops, and prepared for the exhibition of a 
tilt and tournament. The music, and managers with 
favors of white and blue ribbons in their breasts, led 
the way, followed by the generals and the rest of the 
company. 

In front, the building oounded the view through a 
vista formed by two triumphal arches in a line with the 
landing place. Two pavilions, with rows of benches 
rising one above another, received the ladies, while the 
gentlemen ranged themselves on each side. On the 
front seat of each pavilion were seven young ladies as 
princesses, in Turkish habits, and wearing in their 
turbans the favors meant for the knights who contended. 
The sound of trumpets was heard in the distance ; and 
a band of knights in ancient habits of white and red 
silk, mounted on gray horses caparisoned in the same 
colors, attended by squires on foot, heralds and trumpet- 
ers, entered the lists. Lord Cathcart was chief of these 
knights; and appeared in honor of Miss Auchmuty. 
One of his esquires bore his lance, another his shield ; 
and two black slaves in blue and white silk, with silver 
clasps on their bare necks and arms, held his stirrups. 
The band made the circuit of the square, saluting the 
ladies, and then ranged themselves in a line with the 
pavilion in which were the ladies of their device. Their 
herald, after a flourish of trumpets, proclaimed a chal- 



REBECCA FRANKS. 185 

lenge; asserting the superiority of the ladies of the 
Blended Rose, in wit, beauty and accomplishment, and 
offering to prove it by deeds of arms according to the 
ancient laws of chivalry. At the third repetition of the 
challenge, another herald and trumpeters advanced 
from the other side of the square, dressed in black and 
orange, and proclaimed defiance to the challengers, in 
the name of the knights of the Burning Mountain. 
Captain Watson, the chief, appeared in honor of Miss 
Franks ; his device — a heart with a wreath of flowers ; 
his motto — Love and Glory. This band also rode 
"ound the lists, and drew up in front of the White 
Knights. The gauntlet was thrown down and lifted ; 
the encounter took place. After the fourth encounter, 
the two chiefs, spurring to the centre, fought singly, tili 
the marshal of the field rushed between, and declared 
that the ladies of the Blended Rose and the Burning 
Mountain were satisfied with the proofs of love and valor 
already given, and commanded their knights to desist. 
The bands then filed off in different directions, salutinsc 
the ladies as they approached the pavilions. 

The company then passed in procession through 
triumphal arches built in the Tuscan order, to a garden 
in front of the building ; and thence ascended to a 
spacious hall painted in imitation of Sienna marble. 
In this hall and apartment adjoining, were tea and 
refreshments ; and the knights, kneeling, received their 
favors from the ladies. On entering the room appropri- 
ated for the faro table, a cornucopia was seen filled with 
fruit and flowers ; another appeared in going out, shrunk, 



186 WOMEN OV THE REVOLUTION. 

reversed and empty. The next advance was to a ball- 
room painted in pale blue, pannelled with gold, with 
dropping festoons of flowers; the surbase pink, with 
drapery festooned in blue. Eighty-five mirrors, decked 
with flowers and ribbons, reflected the light from thirty- 
four branches of wax lights. On the same floor were 
fou drawing-rooms with sideboards of refreshments, 
also decorated and lighted up. The dancing continued 
till ten; the windows were then thrown open, and the 
fire- works commenced with a magnificent bouquet of 
rockets. 

At twelve, large folding doors, which had hitherto 
been concealed, were suddenly thrown open, discover- 
ing a splendid and spacious saloon, richly painted, and 
brilliantly illuminated ; the mirrors and branches deco- 
rated, as also the supper table ; which was set out — 
according to Major Andre's account — with four hundred 
and thirty covers, and twelve hundred dishes. When 
supper was ended, the herald and trumpeters of the 
Blended Rose entered the saloon, and proclaimed the 
health of the king and royal family — followed by that 
of the knights and ladies ; each toast being accompanied 
by a flourish of music. The company then returned to 
the ball-room ; and the dancing continued till four o'clock. 

This was the most splendid entertainment ever given 
by officers to their general. The next day the mirrors 
and lustres borrowed from the citizens were sent home, 
with their ornaments. The pageant of a night was 
over; Sir William Howe departed. The folly and 
extravagance displayed were apparent not only to the 



REBECCA FRANKS. 187 

foes of Britain. It is said thet an old Scotch officer of 
artillery, when asked if he would be surprised at an 
attack from General Washington during the festivities 
of the day, replied — "If Mr. Washington possess the 
wisdom and sound policy I have ever attributed to him, 
he will not meddle with us at such a time. The excesses 
of the present hour are to him equivalent to a victory." 

It is interesting to contrast the situation of the two 
hostile armies at this time ; and to follow the destiny of 
the revellers. When the alliance was concluded between 
France and America, it was determined in Great 
Britain immediately to evacuate Philadelphia, and con- 
centrate the royal forces in the city and harbor of 
New York. In one month knights and army marched 
from the city they had occupied. Major Andre, repre- 
sented as the charm of the company, who had aided in 
painting the decorations, and illustrated the pageant by 
his pen, went forth to mingle in graver scenes. General 
Wayne writes, on the twelfth of July ; " Tell those 
Philadelphia ladies who attended Howe's assemblies 
and levees, that the heavenly, sweet, pretty redcoats — 
the accomplished gentlemen of the guards and grena- 
diers, have been humbled on the plains of Monmouth. 
The knights of the Blended Roses, and of the Burning 
Mount — have resigned their laurels to rebel officers, 
who will lay them at the feet of those virtuous daughters 
of America who cheerfully gave up ease and affluence 
in a city, for liberty and peace of mind in a cottage." 

But the empire of beauty was not to be overthrown 
by political changes. The belles who had graced the 



188 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

fete found the reproach east on them by indignant 
patriots speedily forgotten. When the Americans, on 
their return to the capital, gave a ball to their own and 
the French officers, and it was debated whether the 
ladies of the Mischianza should be honored with invi- 
tations, the question was soon decided by the reflection 
that it would be impossible to make up an agreeable 
companv without them. 



XIV. 



ELIZABETH FERGUSON. 

The old building called the Carpenter Mansion, the 
site of which is now occupied by the Arcade in Phila- 
delphia, was the residence of Doctor Thomas Graeme, 
the father of Mrs. Ferguson. He was a native of Scot- 
land ; distinguished as a physician in the city ; and for 
some time was colonial collector of the port. He mar- 
ried Anne, the daughter of Sir William Keith, then 
Governor of Pennsylvania. 

More than thirty years before the Revolution, when 
these premises were occupied by Governor Thomas, 
the fruit-trees, garden, and shrubbery often allured the 
townsfolk to extend their walks thither. The youth of 
that day were frequently indebted to the kindness of 
the Governor's lady, who invited them to help them- 
selves from a long range of cherry-trees ; and when 
May day came, the young girls were treated to bou- 
quets and wreaths from the gardens. After the death 
of Dr. Graeme, in 1772, the property passed succes- 
sively into different hands. In time of the war, the 
house was appropriated for the use of the sick Ameri- 
can soldiery, who died there in hundreds, of the camp 



190 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

fever. The sufferers were supplied with nourishmer 
by the ladies of Philadelphia ; and General Washington 
himself sent them a cask of Madeira, which he had 
received as a present from Robert Morris. The man- 
sion was the scene, moreover, of a most touching spec- 
tacle, on one occasion, when the mother of a youth from 
the country came to seek her son among the dead in 
the hospital. While mourning over him as lost to her 
for ever, she discerned signs of life, and ere long he was 
restored to consciousness in her arms.* 

While occupied by Dr. Graeme, the house was long 
rendered attractive and celebrated, not only by his exu- 
berant hospitality, but by the talents and accomplish- 
ments of his youngest daughter. She was the centre 
of the literary coteries of that day, who were accus- 
tomed to meet at her father's residence. Even in early 
life she discovered a mind richly endowed with intel- 
lectual gifts. These were cultivated with care by her 
excellent and accomplished mother. She was born in 
1739. In her youth she passed much time in study; 
for which, and the cultivation of her poetical talents, 
opportunities were afforded in the pleasant retreat where 
her parents spent their summers — Graeme Park, in 
Montgomery county, twenty miles from Philadelphia. 
It is said that the translation of Telemachus into Eng- 
lish verse — the manuscript volumes of which are in the 
Philadelphia Library — was undertaken by Elizabeth 
Graeme, as a relief and diversion of her mind from the 
suffering occasioned by a disappointment in love. After 

* See Watson's Annals of Philadelphia. 



ELIZABETH FERGUSON. 191 

this, the failure of her health induced her father to send 
her to Europe. Her "mother, who had long been declin- 
ing, wished her much to go, and for a reason as sin- 
gular as it is touching.* She believed the time of her 
death to be at hand ; and felt that the presence of her 
beloved daughter prevented that exclusive fixing of her 
thoughts and affections upon heavenly things, which in 
her last hours she desired. This distrust of the heart is 
not an uncommon feeling. Archbishop Lightfoot wish- 
ed to die separated from his home and family. A 
mother, some years ago, in her last moments said to her 
daughter, who sat weeping at her bedside, " Leave me, 
my child ; I cannot die while you are in the room." 
Something of the same feeling is shown in an extract 
from one of Mrs. Graeme's letters, written to be deliver- 
ed after her death : " My trust," she says, " is in my 
heavenly Father's mercies, procured and promised by the 
all-sufficient merits of my blessed Saviour ; so that what- 
ever time it may be before you see this, or whatever 
weakness I may be under on my death-bed, be assured 
this is my faith — this is my hope from my youth up 
until now." 

Mrs. Graeme died, as she expected, during the ab- 
sence of her daughter ; but left two farewell letters to 
be delivered on her return. These contained advice 
respecting her future life in the relations of wife and 

* See Hazard's Pennsylvania Register, vol. iii., p. 394, for a memoir 
of Mrs. Ferguson, first published in the Port-Folio, from which are 
derived these particulars of her personal history. Some of her letters 
appeared in the Port-Folio. 



192 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

mistress of a household ; and the most ardent expres- 
sions of maternal affection. Elizabeth remained a year 
in England, under the guardianship of the Rev. Dr. 
Richard Peters, of Philadelphia, whose position enabled 
him to introduce her into the best society. She was 
sought for in literary circles, attracted the attention 
of distinguished persons by her mental accomplishments, 
and was particularly noticed by the British monarch. 
The celebrated Dr. Fothergill, whom she consulted as a 
physician, was during his life her friend and corres 
pondent. 

Her return to Philadelphia was welcomed by a 
numerous circle of friends, who came to condole with 
her upon her mother's death, and to testify their affec- 
tionate remembrance of herself. The stores of infor 
mation gained during her visit to Great Britain, where 
she had been " all eye, all ear, and all grasp," were dis- 
pensed for the information and entertainment of those 
she loved. She now occupied the place of her mother 
in her father's family, managing the house and presid- 
ing in the entertainment of his visitors. During several 
years of their winter residence in the city, Saturday 
evenings were appropriated for the reception of their 
friends, and strangers who visited Philadelphia with in- 
troductions to the family of Dr. Graeme. The mansion 
was, in fact, the head-quarters of literature and refine- 
ment ; and the hospitality of its owner rendered it an 
agreeable resort. Miss Graeme was the presiding ge- 
nius. Her brilliant intellect, her extensive and varied 
knowledge, her vivid fancy, and cultivated taste, offered 



ELIZABETH FERGUSON. 193 

attractions which were enhanced by the charm of her 
graceful manners. 

It was at one of these evening assemblies that she 
first saw Hugh Henry Ferguson, a young gentleman 
lately arrived in the country from Scotland. They 
were pleased with each other at the first interview, be- 
ing congenial in literary tastes, and a love of retire- 
ment. The marriage took place in a few months, not- 
withstanding that Ferguson was ten years younger than 
Miss Graeme. Not long after this event her father 
died, having bequeathed to his daughter the country- 
seat in Montgomery county, on which she and her hus- 
band continued to reside. 

The happiness anticipated by Mrs. Ferguson in 
country seclusion and her books, was of brief duration. 
The discontents were increasing between Great Britain 
and America, which resulted in the war of Independence. 
It was necessary for Mr. Ferguson to take part with 
one or the other ; and he decided according to the pre- 
judices natural to his birth, by espousing the royal 
cause. From this time a separation took place between 
him and Mrs. Ferguson. 

Her connection with certain political transactions 
exposed her for a time to much censure and mortifi- 
cation. But there is no reason to doubt the sincerity 
of her declarations with regard to the motives that 
influenced her conduct. Many of her unobtrusive 
charities testify to her sympathy with her suffering coun- 
trymen. She not only visited the cottages in her 
neighborhood with supplies of clothing, provisions, or 
9 



194 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

medicines for the inmates, but while General Howe 
had possession of Philadelphia, she sent a quantity of 
linen into the city, spun with her own hands, and di- 
rected it to be made into shirts for the benefit of the 
American prisoners taken at the battle of Germantown. 

Another instance of her benevolence is character- 
istic. On hearing, in one of her visits to the city, that 
a merchant had become reduced, and having been im- 
prisoned for debt, was suffering from want of the com- 
forts of life, she sent him a bed, and afterwards visited 
him in prison, and put twenty dollars into his hands. 
She refused to inform him who was his benefactor ; 
but it was discovered by his description of her person 
and dress. At this time her annual income, it is said, 
was reduced to a very limited sum. Many other secret 
acts of charity, performed at the expense of her personal 
and habitual comforts were remembered by her friends, 
and many instances of her sensibility and tender sym- 
pathy with all who suffered. 

Her husband being engaged in the British service, 
she was favored by the loyalists, while treated with 
respect at the same time by the other party as an 
American lady who occupied a high social position.* 
It was natural that she should be in some measure 
influenced by attachment to the old order of things, 
and respect for the civil institutions she had been accus- 
tomed to venerate ; while her desire for the good of her 

*The reader is referred to the Life and Correspondence of 
President Reed, by his grandson, William B. Reed. Vol. i., 381. 
Mrs. Ferguson's letters are there quoted, with her narrative, at length 



ELIZABETH FERGUSON. 195 

countrymen led to ardent wishes that the desolations 
and miseries she witnessed might cease. It is said she 
often wept over newspapers containing details of suffer 
ing. The sensibility that could not bear to look on 
the woes even of the brute creation, must have been 
severely tried by the daily horrors of civil war. It is 
not surprising, therefore, that she should be eager to 
seize any opportunity that offered, of being instrumental 
in ending them. 

Immediately after the British took possession of 
Philadelphia, Mrs. Ferguson was the bearer of a letter 
from the Rev. Mr. Duche to General Washington, 
which greatly displeased him, causing him to express to 
her his disapprobation of the intercourse she seemed to 
have held with the writer, and his expectation that it 
should be discontinued. At a later period she came again 
to Philadelphia, under a pass granted her by the Com- 
mander-in-chief, for the purpose of taking leave of her 
husband. She was at the house of her friend Charles 
Stedman, which chanced to be the place appointed for 
the residence of Governor Johnstone, one of the com- 
missioners sent under parliamentary authority to settle 
the differences between Great Britain and America 
She was in company with him three times ; the conversa- 
tion being general on the first two occasions. His 
declarations, she says, were so warm in favor of Ameri- 
can interests, that she looked upon him as really a friend 
to her country. He wished, since he could not himself 
be permitted to pass the lines, to find some person who 
would step forward and act a mediatorial part, by 



196 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

suggesting something to stop the effusion of blood likely 
to ensue if the war were carried on. Mrs. Ferguson 
said repeatedly, that she believed the sentiment of the 
people to be in favor of Independence. " I am certain," 
were her words in the last conversation on the subject 
— "that nothing short of Independence will be accepted." 
Yet it does not appear that her own views were averse 
to a re-union of the two countries. 

Governor Johnstone then expressed a particular anxiety 
for the influence of General Reed ; and requested Mrs. 
Ferguson, "if she should see him," to convey the idea, 
that provided he could, "comformably to his conscience 
and views of things," exert his influence to settle the 
dispute, "he might command ten thousand guineas, and 
the best post in the government." In reply to Mrs. 
Ferguson's question, if Mr. Reed would not look upon 
such a mode of obtaining his influence as a bribe, 
Johnstone immediately disclaimed any such idea ; said 
such a method of proceeding was common in all negotia- 
tions ; and that one might honorably make it a man's 
interest to step forth in such a cause. She on her part 
expressed her conviction that if Mr. Reed thought it 
right to give up the point of Independence, he would 
say so without fee or reward ; and if he were of a differ- 
ent opinion, no pecuniary emolument would lead him 
to give a contrary vote. Mr. Johnstone did not see 
the matter in this light. 

A day or two after this communication was sug- 
gested, Mrs. Ferguson sent by a confidential messenger 
a note to General Reed, at head-quarters, requesting an 



ELIZABETH FERGUSON. 197 

hour's conversation previous to her going to Lancaster 
on business, and desiring him to fix a place where she 
could meet him without the necessity of passing through 
the camp. She stated that the business on which she 
wished to confer with him could not be committed to 
writing. 

The note was received on the 21st of June, after Gen- 
eral Reed's arrival in the city, which had been evacu- 
ated three days before by the British. He sent word 
by the bearer that he would wait upon Mrs. Ferguson 
the same evening. At this interview, the conversation 
treating of Governor Johnstone's desire of settling 
matters upon an amicable footing, and his favorable 
sentiments towards Mr. Reed, General Reed mentioned 
that he had received a letter from him at Valley Forge. 
Mrs. Ferguson then repeated, in all its particulars, the 
conversation that had passed at the house of Mr. Sted- 
man. Her repetition of the proposition of Governor 
Johnstone brought from General Reed the prompt and 
noble reply: "I am not worth purchasing; but such 

AS I AM, THE KING OF GREAT BRITAIN IS NOT RICH 
ENOUGH TO DO IT." 

General Reed laid before Congress both the written 
and verbal communications of Governor Johnstone; 
withholding, however, the name of the lady, from mo- 
tives of delicacy, and reluctance to draw down popular 
indignation upon her. An account of the transaction 
was also published in the papers of the day. It was 
useless to attempt concealment of her name ; suspicion 
was at once directed to her ; and her name was called 



198 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

for by a resolution of the Executive Council of Penn- 
sylvania.* Congress issued a declaration condemning 
the daring and atrocious attempts made to corrupt their 
integrity, and declaring it incompatible with their honor 
to hold any manner of correspondence with the said 
George Johnstone. As may be Imagined, disagreeable 
consequences ensued, which were severely felt by Mrs. 
Ferguson. As soon as she saw the article in Towne's 
Evening Post, which reached her at Graeme Park, 
July 26th, 1778, she addressed a letter of remonstrance 
to General Reed, bitterly complaining of having been 
exhibited in the newspapers as a mere emissary of the 
commissioners. " I own I find it hard," she says, 
" knowing the uncorruptness of my heart, to be held 
out to the public as a tool to the commissioners But 
the impression is now made, and it is too late to recall 
it. How far, at this critical juncture of time, this 
affair may injure my property, is uncertain ; that, I 
assure you, is but a secondary thought." f 

It appears evident that Mrs. Ferguson did not act 
this part in any expectation of deriving advantage for 
herself. Her associations and connections being chiefly 
with the royalists, it was natural that her opinions 

* " The attempt through the wife of a loyalist to bribe a member of 
Congress to aid in uniting the Colonies to the mother country, proved 
of incalculable service in recalling the doubting and irresolute whigs 
to a sense of duty The story, and the noble reply, were repeated 
from mouth to mouth; and from the hour it was known, the whigs 
had won — the tories lost — the future empire."' — Sabine's American 
Loyaksts 

t Letter published in the Remembrancer, vol. vi. 



ELIZABETH FERGUSON. 199 

.should be influenced by theirs; but her desire for the 
good of the country was undoubtedly disinterested. 
After the return of Governor Johnstone to England, he 
ventured to deny the charge preferred in the resolutions 
of Congress, by a letter published in Rivington's Ga- 
zette ; and in a speech in November in the House of 
Commons, Doldly asserted the falsehood of the statement 
made by General Reed. His denial no sooner reached 
America, than Mrs. Ferguson, anxious that justice 
should be done to all parties, published her narrative of 
the transaction, confirmed by her oath. The excellence 
of the motives which had actuated her in consenting to 
act as Johnstone's confidential agent, is sufficiently ap- 
parent in the spirit she now exhibited. 

" Among the many mortifying insinuations that have 
been hinted on the subject, none has so sensibly affected 
me, as an intimation that some thought I acted a part, 
in consequence of certain expectations of a post, or 
some preferment from Mr. Johnstone, to be conferred 
on the person dearest to me on earth. On that head I 
shall say no more, but leave it to any person of common 
sense to determine, if I had any views of that kind, 
whether I should, in so full and solemn a manner, call 
in question what Mr. Johnstone has asserted in the 
House of Commons. A proceeding of this kind must 
totally exclude all avenues of favor from that quarter, 
were there ever any expected, which I solemnly declare 
never was the case. If this account should ever have 
the honor to be glanced over by the eye of Governor 
Johnstone, I know not in what medium he may view it 



200 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

It is possible that the multiplicity of ideas, which may 
be supposed to pass through the brain of a politician in 
the course of a few months, may have jostled the whole 
transaction out of his memory. Should this be the 
case, insignificant and contemptible as I may appear to 
him, I believe there are two or three people in Britain 
who will venture to tell him, in all his plenitude of 
power, that they believe I would not set my hand to an 
untruth." 

Mrs. Ferguson's poetical talent has been mentioned. 
Her verses were said to possess vigor and measure, but 
to lack melody, while her prose writings indicated both 
genius and knowledge. She was well read in polemical 
divinity, and a firm believer in the doctrines of revela- 
tion. She is said to have transcribed the whole Bible, 
to impress its contents more deeply upon her mind ; 
hence the facility with which she would select appro- 
priate passages to illustrate or adorn the subjects of 
her writings or conversation. 

She had no children, but adopted the son and daughter 
of one of her sisters, who on her death-bed committed 
them to her care. The nephew, an accomplished 
scholar and gentleman, was till his death a lieutenant 
in the British army. 

The talents and attainments of Mrs. Ferguson, her 
virtues, elevated and invigorated by Christian faith, 
her independence and integrity of character, and her 
benevolent feeling for others — endeared her name to a 
large circle of friends. Yet her life appears to have 
been one darkened by sorrc \v. In her later years, the 



ELIZABETH FERGUSON. 201 

reduction of her income diminished her means of useful- 
ness ; but she would not permit any privations to which 
she found it necessary to submit, to be a source of un 
happiness. 

She died at the house of a friend near Graeme Park, 
on the twenty-third of February, 1801. in the sixty- 
second year of her age 



0* 



XV. 



MARY PHILIPSE. 

In 1756, Colonel George Washington, then com- 
mander-in-chief of the Virginia forces, had some diffi- 
culties concerning rank with an officer holding a royal 
commission. He found it necessary to communicate 
with General Shirley, the commander-in-chief of His 
Majesty's armies in America ; and for this purpose left 
his head-quarters at Winchester, and travelled to 
Boston on horse-back, attended by his aids-de-camp. 
On his way, he stopped in some of the principal cities. 
The military fame he had gained, and the story of his 
remarkable escape at Braddock's defeat, excited general 
curiosity to see the brave young hero ; and great atten- 
tion was paid to him. While in New York, says his 
biographer, Mr. Sparks, "he was entertained at the 
nouse of Mr. Beverley Robinson, between whom and 
himself an intimacy of friendship subsisted, which 
indeed continued without change, till severed by their 
opposite fortunes twenty years afterwards'in the Revo- 
lution. It happened that Miss Mary Philipse, a sister 



MARY PHILIPSE. 203 

of Mrs. Robinson, and a young lady of rare accomplish- 
ments, was an inmate in the family. The charms of 
this lady made a deep impression upon the heart of the 
Virginia Colonel. He went to Boston, returned, and 
was again welcomed to the hospitality of Mrs. Robinson. 
He lingered there till duty called him away ; but he was 
careful to entrust his secret to a confidential friend, 
whose letters kept him informed of every important 
event. In a few months intelligence came that a rival 
was in the field, and that the consequences could not be 
answered for, if he delayed to renew his visits to New 
York." 

Washington could not at this time leave his post, 
however deeply his feelings may have been interested 
in securing the favor of the fair object of his admiration. 
The fact that his friend thought fit to communicate 
thus repeatedly with him upon the subject, does not 
favor the supposition that his regard was merely a 
passing fancy, or that the bustle of camp-life, or the 
scenes of war, had effaced her image from his heart. 
Mr. Sparks assures me that the letters referred to, which 
were from a gentleman connected with the Robinson 
family, though playful in their tone, were evidently 
written under the belief that an attachment existed on 
Washington's part, and that his happiness was concern- 
ed. How far the demonstrations of this attachment had. 
gone, it is now impossible to ascertain ; nor whether 
Miss Philipse had discouraged the Colonel's attentions 
so decidedly as to preclude all hope. The probability 



204 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

is, however, that he despaired of success. He never 
saw her again till after her marriage with Captain Roger 
Morris, the rival of whom he had been warned. 

Mary Philipse was the daughter of the Hon. Frede- 
rick Philipse, Speaker of the Assembly. He was lord 
of the old manor of Philipsborough, and owned an im- 
mense landed estate on the Hudson. Mary was born 
at the Manor Hall, on the third of July, 1730. No 
particulars relating to her early life can be given by her 
relatives; but the tradition is, that she was beautiful 
fascinating, and accomplished. A lady now living in 
New York, who knew her after she became Mrs. Mor- 
ris, and had visited her at her residence near the city, 
tells me that she was one of the most elegant women 
she had ever seen ; and that her manners, uniting dig- 
nity with affability, charmed every one who knew her. 
The rumor of Washington's former attachment was 
then current, and universally believed. Her house was 
the resort of many visitors at all seasons. She removed 
to New York after her marriage, in 1758, with Roger 
Morris, who was a captain in the British army in the 
French war, and one of Braddock's aids-de-camp. A 
part of the Philipse estate came by right of his wife 
into his possession, and was taken from him by confis- 
cation, in punishment for his loyalism. Mrs. Morris 
was included in the attainder, that the whole interest 
might pass under the act.* The rights of her children, 

* The authentic facts relating to Captain Morris and Colonel Robin- 
son, and to their wives, have been preserved by Mr. Sabine in his 
" American LoyaVsts." He visited the relatives of the family in New 
Brunswick. 



MARY PHILIPSE. 205 

however, as time showed, were not affected ; and the 
reversionary interest was sold by them to John Jacob 
Astor. 

The descendants of Mrs. Robinson, the sister of 
Mary Morris, speak of her with warm praise, as one 
who possessed high qualities of mind, and great excel- 
lence of character. To one of these, a gentleman high 
in office in New Brunswick, the author of the 'Loyal- 
ists' once remarked in conversation, that there was 
some difference to his aunt, between being the wife 
of the Commander-in-chief — the first President of the 
United States, and the wife of an exile and an outlaw 
— herself attainted of treason. The tables were turned 
upon him by the reply, that Mrs. Morris had been re- 
markable for fascinating all who approached her, and 
moulding every body to her will ; and that had she mar- 
ried Washington, it could not be certain that she would 
not have kept him to his allegiance. " Indeed, Wash- 
ington would not, could not have been a traitor with 
such a wife as Aunt Morris." Without dwelling on 
the possibilities of such a contingency, one can hardly 
think, without some degree of national shame, that a 
lady whom we have every reason to believe had been 
the object of Washington's love, "should be attainted 
of treason for clinging to the fortunes of her hus- 
band." 

Mrs. Morris died in England in 1825, at the ad- 
vanced age of ninety-six. The portrait of her is en- 
graved from an original painting taken after her mar- 
riage, and now in the possession of her namesake and 



200 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

grandniece, Mrs. Governeur, who resides at " Highland 
Grange," Philipstown, in the Highlands. It is stated in 
the History of Westchester County, that Miss Mary 
Philipse was the original of the lovely character of 
Frances, in Mr. Cooper's novel of " The Spy :" this is 
incorrect. 



Susannah, the sister of Mary Philipse, was the wife 
of Beverley Robinson of New York. There is some 
ground for the belief that she actually exercised over 
her husband's mind some portion of the influence said 
to have been possessed by her sister ; for it appears that 
he was at first disinclined to take any active part in the 
contest between the Colonies and Great Britain. He 
was so much opposed to the measures of the ministry, 
that he would not use imported merchandise ; but was 
at length prevailed on by his friends to enter the royal 
service. As before-mentioned, he and Washington 
were intimate friends before they were separated by 
difference of political opinion. " The Robinson house," 
which had been confiscated with the lands, was occu- 
pied by Arnold as his head-quarters, and by Washing- 
ton at the time of Arnold's treason. 

When Colonel Robinson gave up the quiet enjoy- 
ment of country life, his wife took her share of the out- 
lawry that awaited him ; she, as well as her sister, 
being included in the act of confiscation. After their 
removal to England, they lived in retirement. She 
died near Bath, at the age of ninety-four, in 1822. Her 



MARY PHILTPSE. 207 

descendants in New Brunswick preserve, among other 
relics of the olden time, a silver tea-urn, of rich and 
massive workmanship, said to be the first of such 
articles used in America. 



XVI. 



SARAH REEVE GIBBES. 

The failure of the British commissioners to conclude 
an amicable adjustment of differences between the two 
countries — and the ill success of the effort to gain their 
ends by private intrigue and bribery — annihilated the 
hopes of those who had desired the acceptance by Con- 
gress of terms of accommodation. War was now the 
only prospect ; the reduction of the Colonies to obedi- 
ence by force of arms, or the establishment of national 
Independence by a protracted struggle. The move- 
ments and expeditions which succeeded the battle of 
Monmouth — the incursion of the Indians and tories 
under Colonel John Butler and Brandt, for the destruc- 
tion of the settlement in the lovely valley of Wyoming 
— the terrible tragedy of July, with the retaliatory ex- 
peditions against the Indians — and the repetition of 
the barbarities of Wyoming at Cherry Valley, in No 
vember — were the prominent events that took place in 
the middle and northern sections of the country during 
the remainder of 1778. The scene of important action 
was now changed to the South. In November, Count 
D'Estaing, with the French fleet, sailed for the West 



SARAH REEVE GIBBES. 209 

Indies, to attack the British dependencies in that quar- 
ter. General Sir Henry Clinton, on his part, despatched 
Colonel Campbell from New York, on an expedition 
against Georgia, the feeblest of the southern provinces. 
His troops landed late in December near Savannah, 
which was then defended by the American general, 
Robert Howe. His small force being enfeebled by 
sickness, defeat was the consequence of an attack ; and 
the remnant of the American army retreated into 
South Carolina. The British having obtained posses- 
sion of the capital of Georgia, the plan of reducing 
that State and South Carolina was vigorously prose- 
cuted in 1779, while the armies of Washington and 
Clinton were employed in the northern section of the 
Union. Soon after the fall of Savannah, General Pre- 
vost, with troops from East Florida, took possession of 
the only remaining military post in Georgia ; and join- 
ing his forces to those of Colonel Campbell, assumed 
the chief command of the royal army at the South. 
The loyalists who came along the western frontier of 
Carolina to join his standard, committed great devas- 
tations and cruelties on their way. General Lincoln, 
who commanded the continental forces in the southern 
department, sent a detachment under General Ashe 
across the Savannah., to repress the incursions of the 
enemy, and confine them to the low country near the 
sea coast. The surprise and defeat of this detachment 
by Prevost, completed the subjugation of Georgia. But 
in April General Lincoln entered the field anew, and 
leaving Moultrie to watch Prevost's movements, com- 



210 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION 

menced his march up the left bank of the Savannah 
and crossed into Georgia near Augusta, with the inten 
tion of advancing on the capital. Prevost attacked 
Moultrie and Pulaski, compelling them to retreat ; and 
then hurried to place himself before Charleston. From 
this position, however, he was obliged to withdraw on 
Lincoln's approach. He proceeded to the island of St. 
John's, separated from the mainland by an inlet called 
Stono River ; and leaving a division at Stono Ferry, 
retired with a part of his force towards Savannah. On 
the 20th June, Lincoln attacked the division at Stono 
Ferry, but was repulsed. The British soon after estab- 
lished a post at Beaufort, and the main body of the 
army retired to Savannah. For some months the hot 
and sickly season prevented further action on either 
side. 

The siege of Savannah under D'Estaing and Lincoln 
took place early in October, 1779. The Americans 
were repulsed, the gallant Pulaski receiving his death- 
wound ; and the enterprise was abandoned. The French 
fleet departed from the coast ; and General Lincoln re- 
treated into South Carolina. A cloud of despondency 
hung over the close of this year. The flattering hopes 
inspired by the alliance with France had not been re- 
alized. The continental army reduced in numbers and 
wretchedly clothed — the treasury empty — the paper 
currency rapidly diminishing in value — distress was 
brought or. all classes, and the prospect seemed more 
than ever dark and discouraging. On the other hand, 
Britain displayed new resources, and made renewed exer- 



SARAH REEVE GIBBES. 211 

tions, notwithstanding- the formidable combination 
against her. Sir Henry Clinton determined to make 
the South his most important field of operations for the 
future, and planned the campaign of 1780 on an ex- 
tensive scale. He arrived in Georgia late in January, 
and early in the succeeding month left Savannah for 
the siege of Charleston, then defended by General Lin- 
coln. The fleet of Arbuthnot was anchored in the har- 
bor, and the British overran the country on the left 
side of the Cooper river. The surrender of Charleston 
on the twelfth of May, seemed to secure the recovery 
of the southern section of the Union ; and Clinton im- 
mediately set about re-establishing the royal govern- 
ment. 

The foregoing brief glance at the course of events 
during the two years succeeding the evacuation of 
Philadelphia, is necessary to prepare the reader for the 
southern sketches that follow. 



A few hundred yards from a fine landing on Stone 
River, upon John's Island, about two hours' sail from 
Charleston, stands a large, square, ancient-looking man- 
sion, strongly built of brick, with a portico fronting the 
river. On the side towards the road, the wide piazza 
overlooks a lawn ; and a venerable live oak, with aspen, 
sycamore, and other trees, shade it from the sun. 
On either side of the house, about twenty yards distant, 
stands a smaller two story building, connected with the 
main building by a neat open fence. In one of these 



212 WOMEN OP THE REVOLUTION. 

is the kitchen and out-offices ; the other was formerly 
the school-house and tutor's dwelling. Beyond are the 
barns, the overseer's house, and the negro huts apper- 
taining to a plantation. The garden in old times was 
very large and well-cultivated, being laid out in wide 
walks, and extending from the mansion to the river. 
The " river walk," on the verge of a bluff eight or ten 
feet in height, followed the bending of the water, and 
was bordered with orange-trees. Tall hedges of the 
ever-green wild orange-tree divided the flower from the 
vegetable garden, and screened from view the family 
burial-ground. The beautifully laid out grounds, and 
shaded .walks, gave this place a most inviting aspect, 
rendering it such an abode as its name of " Peaceful 
Retreat" indicated. 

At the period of the Revolution this mansion was 
well known throughout the country as the seat of hos- 
pitality and elegant taste. Its owner, Robert Gibbes, 
was a man of cultivated mind and refined manners — 
one of those gentlemen of the old school, of whom South 
Carolina has justly made her boast. Early in life he 
became a martyr to the gout, by which painful disease 
his hands and feet were so contracted and crippled that 
he was deprived of their use. The only exercise he 
was able to take, was in a chair on wheels, in which he 
was placed every day, and by the assistance of a ser- 
vant, moved about the house, and through the garden. 
The circuit through these walks and along the river, 
formed his favorite amusement. Unable, by reason of 
his misfortune, to take an active part in the war, his 



SARAH REEVE GIBBES. 213 

feelings were nevertheless warmly enlisted on the 
republican side; and his house was ever open for the 
reception and entertainment of the friends of liberty. 
He had married Miss Sarah Reeve, she being at the 
time about eighteen years of age. Notwithstanding 
her youth, she had given evidence that she possessed a 
mind of no common order. The young couple had a 
house in Charleston, but spent the greater part of their 
time at their country-seat and plantation upon John's 
Island. Here Mrs. Gibbes devoted herself with earnest- 
ness to the various duties before her; for in consequence of 
her husband's infirmities, the management of an 
extensive estate, with the writing on business it required 
— devolved entirely upon her. In addition to a large 
family of her own, she had the care of the seven orphan 
children of Mrs. Fenwick, the sister of Mr. Gibbes, who 
at her death had left them and their estate to his guard- 
ianship. Two other children — one her nephew, Robert 
Barnwell — were added to her charge. The multiplied 
cares involved in meeting all these responsibilities, with 
the superintendence of household concerns, required a 
rare degree of energy and activity ; yet the mistress of 
this well ordered establishment had always a ready 
and cordial welcome for her friends, dispensing the 
hospitalities of "Peaceful Retreat," with a grace and 
cheerful politeness that rendered it a most agreeable 
resort. 

It was doubtless the fame of the luxurious living at 
this delightful country-seat — which attracted the atten- 
tion of the British during the invasion of Prevost, while 



214 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

the royal army kept possession of the seaboard. A 
battalion of British and Hessians, determined to quarter 
themselves in so desirable a spot, arrived at the landing 
at the dead of night, and marching up in silence, sur- 
rounded the house. The day had not yet begun to 
dawn, when an aged and faithful servant tapped softly 
at the door of Mrs. Gibbes' apartment. The whisper — 
"Mistress, the redcoats are all around the house," was 
the first intimation given of their danger. " Tell no 
one, Caesar, but keep all quiet," she replied promptly ; 
and her preparations were instantly commenced to 
receive the intruders. Having dressed herself quickly, 
she went up stairs, waked several ladies who were 
guests in the house, and requested them to rise and dress 
with all possible haste. In the mean time the domestics 
were directed to prepare the children, of whom, with 
her own eight and those under her care, there were 
sixteen ; the eldest being only fifteen years old. These 
were speedily dressed and seated in the spacious 
hall. Mrs. Gibbes then assisted her husband, as was 
always her custom — to rise and dress, and had him 
placed in his rolling chair. All these arrangements 
were made without the least, confusion, and so silently, 
that the British had no idea any one was yet awake 
within the house. The object of Mrs. Gibbes was to 
prevent violence on the enemy's part, by showing them 
at once that the mansion was inhabited onlv by those 
who were unable to defend themselves. The impres- 
sive manner in which this was done produced its effect 
The invaders had no knowledge that the inmates were 



SARAH 11EEVE GIBBES. 215 

aware of their presence, till daylight, when they heard 
the heavy rolling of Mr. Gibbes' chair across the great 
hall towards the front door. Supposing the sound to be 
the rolling of a cannon, the soldiers advanced, and stood 
prepared with pointed bayonets to rush in, when the 
signal for assault should be given. But as the door 
was thrown open, and the stately form of the invalid 
presented itself, surrounded by women and children, 
they drew back, and — startled into an involuntary expres- 
sion of respect — presented arms. Mr. Gibbes addressed 
them — yielding, of course, to the necessity that could 
not be resisted. The officers took immediate possession 
of the house, leaving the premises to their men, and 
extending no protection against pillage. The soldiers 
roved at their pleasure about the plantation, helping 
themselves to whatever they chose ; breaking into the 
wine room, drinking to intoxication, and seizing upon 
and carrying off the negroes. A large portion of the 
plate was saved by the provident care of a faithful 
servant, who secretly buried it. Within the mansion 
the energy and self-possession of Mrs. Gibbes still pro- 
tected her family. The appearance of terror or confu- 
sion might have tempted the invaders to incivility ; 
but it was impossible for them to treat otherwise than 
with deference, a lady whose calm and quiet deport- 
ment commanded their respect. Maintaining her 
place as mistress of her household, and presiding at hei 
table, she treated her uninvited guests with a dignified 
courtesy that ensured civility while it prevented pre- 
sumptuous familiarity. The boldest and rudest among 



216 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

them bowed involuntarily to an influence which fear or 
force could not have secured. 

When the news reached Charleston that the British had 
encamped on Mr. Gibbes's plantation, the authorities in 
that city despatched two galleys to dislodge them. 
These vessels ascended the river in the night, and 
arriving opposite, opened a heavy fire upon the invaders' 
encampment. The men had received strict injunctions 
not to fire upon the house, for fear of injury to any of 
the family. It could not, however, be known to Mr. 
Gibbes that such a caution had been given ; and as 
soon as the Americans began their fire, dreading some 
accident, he proposed to his wife that they should take 
the children and seek a place of greater safety. Their 
horses being in the enemy's hands, they had no means 
of conveyance ; but Mrs. Gibbes, with energies roused 
to exertion by the danger, and anxious only to secure 
shelter for her helpless charge, set off to walk with the 
children to an adjoining plantation situated in the 
interior. A drizzling rain was falling, and the weather 
was extremely chilly ; the fire was incessant from the 
American guns, and sent — in order to avoid the house — 
in a direction which was in a range with the course of 
the fugitives. The shot, falling around them, cut the 
bushes, and struck the trees on every side. Exposed 
each moment to this imminent danger, they continued 
their flight with as much haste as possible, for about a 
mile, till beyond the reach of the shot. 

Having reached the houses occupied by the negro 
laborers on the plantation, they stopped for a few 



SARAH REEVE GIBBES. 217 

moments to rest. Mrs. Gibbes, wet, chilled, and exhaust- 
ed by fatigue and mental anxiety, felt her strength 
utterly fail, and was obliged to wrap herself in a blanket 
and lie down upon one of the beds. It was at this 
time, when the party first drew breath freely — with 
thankfulness that the fears of death were over — that 
on reviewing the trembling group to ascertain if all 
had escaped uninjured, it was found that a little boy, 
John Fenwick, was missing. In the hurry and terror 
of their flight the child had been forgotten and left 
behind! What was now to be done? The servants 
refused to risk their lives by returning for him ; and in 
common humanity, Mr. Gibbes could not insist that 
any one should undertake the desperate adventure. 
The roar of the distant guns was still heard, breaking at 
short intervals the deep silence of the night. The 
chilly rain was falling, and the darkness was profound. 
Yet the thought of abandoning the helpless boy to 
destruction, was agony to the hearts of his relatives. 
In this extremity the self-devotion of a young girl inter- 
posed to save him. Mary Anna, the eldest daughter of 
Mrs. Gibbes — then only thirteen years of age, determin- 
ed to venture back — in spite of the fearful peril — alone. 
The mother dared not oppose her noble resolution, 
which seemed indeed an inspiration of heaven ; and 
she was permitted to go. Hastening along the path 
with all the speed of which she was capable, she reached 
the house, still in the undisturbed possession of the 
enemy ; and entreated permission from the sentinel to 
enter; persisting, in spite of refusal, till by earnest 
10 



218 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

importunity of supplication, she gained her object. 
Searching anxiously through the house, she found the 
child in a room in a third story, and lifting him joyfully 
in her arms, carried him down, and fled with him to 
the spot where her anxious parents were awaiting her 
return. The shot still flew thickly around her, frequently 
throwing up the earth in her way ; but protected by the 
Providence that watches over innocence, she joined the 
rest of the family in safety.* The boy saved on this 
occasion by the intrepidity of the young girl, was the 
late General Fenwick, distinguished for his services in 
the last war with Great Britain. " Fenwick Place," still 
called " Headquarters," was three miles from " Peaceful 
Retreat." 

•Major Garden, who after the war married Mary Anna Gibbes, 
nentions this intrepid action. There are a few errors in his account ; 
he calls the boy who was left, " a distant relation,'' and says the 
dwelling-house was fired on by the Americans. The accomplished 
lady who communicated the particulars to me, heard them from her 
grandmother, Mrs. Gibbes ; and the fact that the house was not fired 
upon, is attested by a near relative now living. The house never 
bore any marks of shot; though balls and grape-shot have been often 
found on the plantation. Again — Garden says the family "were 
allowed to remain in some of the upper apartments;" and were at 
last "ordered to quit the premises," implying that they were treated 
with some severity as prisoners. This could not have been the case ; 
as Mrs. Gibbes constantly asserted that she presided at her own table, 
and spoke of the respect and deference with which she was uniformly 
treated by the officers. Her refusal to yield what she deemed a right, 
ensured civility towards herself and household. 

The family Bible, from which the parentage of General Fenwick 
might have been ascertained, was lost during the Revolution, and only 
restored to the family in the summer of 1847. 



SARAH REEVE GIBBES. 219 

Some time after these occurrences, when the family- 
were again inmates of their own home, a battle was 
fought in a neighboring field. When the conflict was 
over, Mrs. Gibbes sent her servants to search among 
the slain left upon the battle-ground, for Robert Barn- 
well, her nephew, who had not returned. They dis- 
covered him by part of his dress, which one of the 
blacks remembered having seen his mother making. 
His face was so covered with wounds, dust and blood, 
that he could not be recognised. Yet life was not 
extinct ; and under the unremitting care of his aunt and 
her young daughter, he recovered. His son, Robert W. 
Barnwell, was for some years president of the South 
Carolina College. Scenes like these were often witness- 
ed by the subject of this sketch, and on more than a 
few occasions did she suffer acute anxiety on account 
of the danger of those dear to her. She was accustom- 
ed to point out the spot where her eldest son, when only 
sixteen years old, had been placed as a sentinel, while 
British vessels were in the river, and their fire was 
poured on him. She would relate how, with a mother's 
agony of solicitude, she watched the balls as they struck 
the earth around him, while the youthful soldier main- 
tained his dangerous post, notwithstanding the entrea- 
ties of an old negro hid behind a tree, that he would 
leave it. Through such trials, the severity of which we 
who enjoy the peace so purchased cannot fully estimate, 
she exhibited the same composure, and readiness to meet 
every emergency, with the same benevolent sympathy 
for others. During the struggle, while Carolina was 



220 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

invaded or in a state of defence, her house was at differ- 
ent times the quarters of friend and foe. The skirmishes 
were frequent, and many who went forth in the morn- 
ing in health and vigor, returned no more ; nor did she 
know from day to day who were next to be her guests. 

Mrs. Gibbes had a cultivated taste ; and amidst her 
many cares, still found leisure for literary occupation. 
Volumes of her writings remain, filled with well-selected 
extracts from the many books she read, accompanied 
by her own comments; with essays on various subjects, 
copies of letters to her friends, and poetry. Everything 
from her pen evinces delicacy as well as strength of 
mind, extensive information, and refinement of taste, 
with the tenderest sensibility, and a deep tone of piety. 
Most of her letters were written after the war, and 
throw no additional light on the feeling or manners of 
that period. 

She was in the habit of putting aside locks of hair 
enclosed with appropriate poetical tributes, as memen- 
toes of her departed friends ; and many of these touch- 
ing memorials have been found among her papers. For 
fifteen years she was deprived of sight, but lost nothing 
of her cheerfulness, or the engaging grace of her manner ; 
nor was her conversation less interesting or entertain- 
ing to her visitors. A stranger, who shortly before her 
death was at her house with a party of friends, whom 
she delighted by her conversation — expressed great 
surprise on being informed she was blind. 

During the latter part of her life, she resided at Wilton, 
the country-seat of Mrs. Barnard Elliott, where she died 



SARAH REEVE GIBBES. 221 

in 1825, at the age of seventy-nine. Her remains rest 
in the family burial-ground upon John's Island. A 
beautiful monumental inscription in St. Paul's church, 
Charleston, records the virtues that adorned her charac- 
ter, and the faith which sustained her under many 
afflictions. 



XVII. 



ELIZA WILKINSON. 

The letters of Eliza Wilkinson present a lively pic- 
ture of the situation of man} r inhabitants of that por- 
tion of country which was the scene of various skir- 
mishes about the time of Lincoln's approach to relieve 
Charleston from Prevost, the retreat of that comman- 
der, and the engagement at Stono Ferry. The de- 
scription given of occurrences, is not only interesting 
as a graphic detail, but as exhibiting traits of female 
character worthy of all admiration. It is much to 
be regretted that her records do not embrace a longer 
period of time. 

Her father was an emigrant from Wales, and always 
had much pride in his Welsh name, Francis Yonge. 
He had three children, Eliza and two sons ; and owned 
what is called Yonge's Island. He was old and infirm, 
and suffered much rough treatment at the hands of the 
British, from whom he refused to take a protection. 
Both his sons died — one the death of a soldier ; and the 
old family name now lives in Charleston in the person 



ELIZA WILKINSON. 223 

of Francis Yonge Porcher, great grandchild of the sub- 
ject of this notice. 

Mrs. Wilkinson had been married only six months 
when her first husband died. At the period of the war, 
she was a young and beautiful widow, with fascinating 
manners, quick at repartee, and full of cheerfulness and 
good humor. Her place of residence, Yonge's Island, 
lies thirty miles south of Charleston. The Cherokee 
rose which still flourishes there in great abundance, 
hedging the long avenue, and the sight of the creek and 
causeway that separate the island from the mainland, 
call up many recollections of her. She bore her part 
in Revolutionary trials and privations, and was fre- 
quently a sufferer from British cruelty. 

Mrs. Wilkinson was in Charleston when news came 
that a large party of the enemy had landed near Beau- 
fort With a few friends, she went over to her father's 
plantation, but did not remain there long ; for upon re- 
ceiving information that a body of British horse were 
within five or six miles, the whole party, with the ex- 
ception of her father and mother, crossed the river to 
Wadmalaw, and went for refuge to the house of her 
sister. A large boat-load of women and children hur- 
rying for safety to Charleston, stayed with them a day 
or two, and presented a sad spectacle of the miseries 
brought in the train of war. One woman with seven 
children, the youngest but two weeks old, preferred 
venturing her own life and that of her tender infant, to^ 
captivity in the hands of a merciless foe. 



224 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Mrs. Wilkinson remained at Wadmalaw for some 
time, and at length returned to her home on the island. 
The surrounding country was waiting in a distressed 
condition for the coming of General Lincoln, to whom 
the people looked for deliverance. Many painful days 
of suspense passed before tidings were received. All 
trifling discourse, she says, was laid aside — the ladies 
who gathered in knots talking only of political affairs. 
At last her brothers, with the Willtown troops, arrived 
from Charleston, and brought the joyful news of the 
approach of Lincoln. The dreaded enemy had not yet 
invaded the retirement of Yonge's Island ; although it 
was suspected that spies were lurking about, and boat- 
loads of red coats were frequently seen passing and 
re-passing on the river. Mrs. Wilkinson retreated with 
her sister to an inland country-seat. There they were 
called on by parties of the Americans, whom they 
always received with friendly hospitality. " The poor- 
est soldier," says one letter, " who would call at any 
time for a drink of water, I would take a pleasure in 
giving it to him myself; and many a dirty, ragged fel- 
low have I attended with a bowl of water, or milk and 
water : they really merit every thing, who will fight 
from principle alone ; for from what I could learn, these 
poor creatures had nothing to piotect, and seldom got 
their pay ; yet with what alacrity will they encounter 
danger and hardships of every kind !" 

One night a detachment of sixty red coats passed the 
gate with the intention of surprising Lieutenant Mor- 
ton Wilkinson at a neighboring plantation. A negro 



ELIZA WILKINSON. 225 

woman was thei: informer and guide ; but their attempt 
was unsuccessful. On re-passing the avenue early the 
next morning, they made a halt at the head of it, but a 
negro man dissuaded them from entering, ^hy telling 
them the place belonged to a decrepit old gentleman, 
who did not then live there. They took his word for it, 
and passed on. 

On the second of June, two men belonging to the 
enemy, rode up to the house, and asked many questions, 
saying that Colonel M'Girth and his soldiers might be 
presently looked for, and that the inmates could expect 
no mercy. The family remained in a state of cruel 
suspense for many hours. The following morning a 
party of the vvhigs called at the gate, but did not alight. 
One of them, in leaping a ditch, was hurt, and taken 
into the house for assistance ; and while they were 
dressing his wound, a negro girl gave the alarm that the 
" king's people" were coming. The two men mounted 
their horses and escaped : the women awaited the ene- 
my's approach. Mrs. Wilkinson writes to a friend : 

"I heard the horses of the inhuman Britons coming 
in such a furious manner, that they seemed to tear up 
the earth, the riders at the same time bellowing out the 
most horrid curses imaginable — oaths and imprecations 
which chilled my whole frame. Surely, thought I, such 
horrid language denotes nothing less than death ; but I 
had no time for thought — they were up to the house — 
entered with drawn swords and pistols in their hands : 
indeed they rushed in in the most furious manner, cry- 
ing out, ' Where are these women rebels ?' That was 
10* 



226 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

the first salutation! The moment they espied us, off 
went our caps. (I always heard say none but women 
pulled caps!) And for what, think you? Why, only 
to get a paltry stone and wax pin, which kept them on 
our heads ; at the same time uttering the most abusive 
language imaginable, and making as if they would hew 
us to pieces with their swords. But it is not in my 
power to describe the scene : it was terrible to the last 
degree ; and what augmented it, they had several armed 
negroes with them, who threatened .and abused us 
greatly. They then began to plunder the house of 
every thing they thought valuable or worth taking ; our 
trunks were split to pieces, and each mean, pitiful 
wretch crammed his bosom with the contents, which 
were our apparel, &c* 

" I ventured to speak to the inhuman monster who 
had my clothes. I represented to him the times were 
such we could not replace what they had taken from 
us, and begged him to spare me only a suit or two : but 
I got nothing but a hearty curse for my pains ; nay, so 
far was his callous heart from relenting, that casting his 
eyes towards my shoes, ' I want them Duckies,' said he ; 
and immediately knelt at my feet to take them out. 
While he was busy doing this, a brother villain, whose 
enormous mouth extended from ear to ear, bawled out, 
'Shares there, I say! shares!' So they divided my 
buckles between them. The other wretches were em- 
ployed in the same manner ; they took my sister's ear- 

* Letters of Eliza Wilkinson, arranged by Mrs. Gilman. 



ELIZA WILKINSON. 227 

rings from her ears, her and Miss Samuells' buckles ; 
they demanded her ring from her finger ; she pleaded 
for it, told them it was her wedding-ring, and begged 
they would let her keep it ; but they still demanded it ; 
and presenting a pistol at her, swore if she did not de- 
liver it immediately, they would fire. She gave it to 
them ; and after bundling up all their booty, they mount- 
ed their horses. But such despicable figures ! Each 
wretch's bosom stuffed so full, they appeared to be all 
afflicted with some dropsical disorder. Had a party of 
rebels (as they call us) appeared, we should have seen 
their circumference lessen. 

" They took care to tell us, when they were going 
away, that they had favored us a great deal — that we 
might thank our stars it was no worse. I had forgot to 
tell you that upon their first entering the house, one of 
them gave my arm such a violent grasp, that he left the 
print of his thumb and three fingers in black and blue, 
which was to be seen very plainly for several days after- 
wards. I showed it to one of our officers who dined 
with us, as a specimen of British cruelty. After they 
were gone, I began to be sensible of the danger I had 
been in, and the thoughts of the vile men seemed worse 
(if possible) than their presence ; for they came so sud- 
denly up to the house, that I had no time for thought ; 
and while they stayed, I seemed in amaze — quite stupid ! 
I cannot describe it. But when they were gone, and I 
had time to consider, I trembled so with terror that I 
could not support myself. I we it into the room, threw 



228 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

myself on the bed, and gave way to a violent burst of 
grief, which seemed to be some relief to my swollen 
heart." 

This outrage was followed by a visit from M'Girth's 
men, who treated the ladies with more civility ; one of 
them promising to make a report at camp of the usage 
they had received. It was little consolation, however, 
to know that the robbers would probably be punished. 
The others, who professed so much feeling for the fair, 
were not content without their share of plunder, 
though more polite in the manner of taking it " While 
the British soldiers were talking to us, some of the 
silent ones withdrew, and presently laid siege to a bee- 
hive, which they soon brought to terms. The others 
perceiving it, cried out, 'Hand the ladies a plate of 
honey.' This was immediately done with officious 
haste, no doubt thinking they were very generous in 
treating us with our own. There were a few horses 
feeding in the pasture. They had them driven up. 
' Ladies, do either of you own these horses ?' ' No ; 
they partly belong to father and Mr. Smilie !' ' Well, 
ladies, as they are not your property, we will take 
them !' " 

They asked the distance to the other settlements ; 
and the females begged that forbearance might be shown 
to the aged father. He was visited the same day by 
another body of troops, who abused him and plundered 
the house. " One came to search mother's pockets, 
too, but she resolutely threw his hand aside. ' If you 
must see what's in my pocket, I'll show you myself;' 



EI,!/. I WILKINSON. 229 

and she took out a thread-case, which had thread, 
needles, pins, tape, &c. The mean wretch took it from 
her." * * " After drinking all the wine, rum, &c. 
they could find, and inviting the negroes they had with 
them, who were very insolent, to do the same — they 
went to their horses, and would shake hands with father 
and mother before their departure. Fine amends, to be 
sure!" 

After such unwelcome visitors, it is not surprising 
that the unprotected women could not eat or sleep in 
peace. They lay in their clothes every night, alarmed 
by the least noise ; while the days were spent in anxiety 
and melancholy. One morning, when Mrs. Wilkinson 
was coming out of her chamber, her eyes fixed on the 
window — for she was continually on the watch — she 
saw something glitter through a thin part of the wood 
bordering the road. It proved to be the weapons of a 
large body of soldiers. As they came from the direc- 
tion of the enemy's encampment, she concluded they 
were British troops ; and every one in the house took 
the alarm. " Never was there such a scene of con- 
fusion. Sighs, complaints, wringing of hands — one 
running here, another there, spreading the dreadful 
tidings ; and in a little time the negroes in the field 
came running up to the house with a hundred stories 
Table, tea-cups — all the breakfast apparatus, were im- 
mediately huddled together and borne off; and we 
watched sharply to see which way the enemy (as we 
supposed them) took. But, oh ! horrible ! in a minute 
or two we saw our avenue crowded with horsemen in 



230 WOMEN OP THE REVOLUTION 

uniform. Said 1, ' that looks like our uniform — blue 
and red ;'" but I immediately recollected to have heard 
that the Hessian uniform was much like ours ; so out 
of the house we went, into an out-house." Their ex- 
cessive fright prevented the explanation attempted from 
being understood. While the officer was endeavoring 
to re-assure the terrified ladies, a negro woman came 
up, and tapping Mrs. Wilkinson on the shoulder, whis- 
pered, 'I don't like these men; one of them gave me 
this piece of silver for some milk ; and I know our 
people don't have so much silver these times.' ' : 

Their dismay and terror were groundless ; for the 
horsemen were a party of Americans, under the com- 
mand of Major Moore. The one taken for a Hessian 
was a French officer. The mistake had been mutual ; 
the distress shown at sight of them having caused the 
officer in command to conclude himself and his men 
unwelcome visitors to some tory family. The discovery 
that they were friends changed fear into delight. " They 
then laughed at me," says Mrs. Wilkinson, " heartily 
for my fright — saying that they really expected, by the 
time I had done wringing my hands, I would have no 
skin left upon them ; but now they knew the reason 
they no longer wondered." 

Word was presently brought that a number of the 
enemy were carrying provisions from a plantation about 
two miles distant. The whigs marched to the place, 
and returned with seven prisoners. Two of these 
were of M'Girth's party, who had treated the ladies so 
cruelly ; yet notwithstanding the njuries received, the 



ELIZA WILKINSON. 231 

kind heart ot Mrs. Wilkinson relented at the sight of 
them. She expressed pity for their distress, calling them 
friends, because they were in the power of her country- 
men ; and interceded for them with the captors. Enqui- 
ring if they would .ike any thing to drink, she supplied 
them with the water they craved, holding the glass to 
their lips, as their hands were tied behind them. Several 
of the American officers, who had gathered at the door 
and window, were smiling at the unusual scene. " In 
the meanwhile," she writes , " Miss Samuells was very 
busy about a wounded officer, (one of M'Girth's,) who 
had been brought to the house. He had a ball through 
his arm ; we could find no rag to dress his wounds, 
e\rery thing in the house being thrown into such con- 
fusion by the plunderers ; but (see the native tenderness 
of an American!) Miss Samuells took from her neck 
the only remaining handkerchief the Britons had left 
her, and with it bound up his arm." 

Their friends having left them, Mr. Yonge sent for 
his daughter to his own plantation. The ladies were 
obliged to walk three miles, the horses having been 
taken away ; but umbrellas were sent for them, and 
they were attended by two of Mr. Yonge's negro men 
armed with clubs. While crossing a place called the 
Sands, the blacks captured and wounded a negro be- 
longing to the loyalists, who came out of the woods. 
Mrs. Wilkinson interfered to save his life ; and to insure 
the safety of the poor creature, who claimed her pro- 
tection, and who was dragged on rapidly by his captors 
— they fearing pursuit— was obliged to walk very fast, 



232 WOMEN OP THE REVOI UTION. 

leaving tne others behind, till she was ready to faint 
from fatigue and the overpowering heat. They arrived 
safe at her father's, whence they were driven ere long 
by another alarm. This time their flight was in dark- 
ness, through bogs and woods, stumbling against the 
stumps or each other. In their new abode they had 
more security. Parties of friends were out continually, 
keeping the enemy quiet ; and sometimes in the night 
soldiers would ride up, and bid the negroes tell the 
ladies they might sleep soundly, for they were to main- 
tain a patrol during the night. 

At length the arrival of General Lincoln was an- 
nounced ; and he was joyfully welcomed by the inmates 
of the house. That night two or three hundred men 
were quartered on the plantation — some of the officers 
sleeping in the hall. They refused to have beds made. 
" Beds were not for soldiers ; the floor or the earth 
served them as well as any where else." At daybreak 
they moved to camp. Another alarm occurred, and Gen- 
eral Lincoln's defeat near Stono Ferry, caused the re- 
treat of the family to Willtown. Our writer's pen had 
thence to record only new aggressions and suffer- 
ings. 

The siege and capitulation of Charleston brought the 
evils under which the land had groaned, to their height. 
The hardships endured by those within the beleagured 
city — the gloomy resignation of hope — the submission 
to inevitable misfortune, have been described by abler 
chroniclers. The general feeling is expressed in a lettei 



EUZA WILKINSON. 233 

from a soldier to his wife, written twelve days before 
the event : 

"Our affairs are daily declining ; and not a ray of 
hope remains to assure us of our success. * * I 
expect to have the liberty of soon returning to 
you ; but the army must be made prisoners of war. 
This will give a rude shock to the independence of 
America ; and a Lincolnade will be as common a term 
as aBurgoynade. * * A mortifying scene must be en- 
countered ; the thirteen stripes will be levelled in the dust ; 
and I owe my life to the clemency of the conqueror." 

After the surrender, Mrs. Wilkinson visited the city, 
went on board the prison-ship, and drank coffee with the 
prisoners awaiting an exchange. She saw the depar- 
ture of her friends w T ho were driven into exile, and in- 
dulged herself occasionally in provoking her enemies by 
sarcastic sallies. " Once," she writes, " I was asked by 
a British officer to play the guitar. 

" ' I cannot play ; I am very dull.' 

"'How long do you intend to continue so, Mrs. 
Wilkinson ?' 

" ' Until my countrymen return, sir !' 

" ' Return as what, madam ? — prisoners or subjects ?' 

" ' As conquerors, sir.' 

" He affected a laugh. ' Ycu will never see that, 
madam !' 

" ' I live in hopes, sir, of seeing the thirteen stripes 
hoisted once more on the bastions of this garrison ' 

" ' Do not hope so ; but come, give us a tune on the 
guitar.' 



234 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION 

" ' I can play nothing but rebel songs.' 

" ' Well, let us have one of them.' 

" ' Not to-day — I cannot play — I will not play ; be- 
sides, I suppose I should be put into the Provost for 
such a heinous crime.' 

" I have often wondered since, I was not packed off, 
too ; for I was very saucy, and never disguised my sen- 
timents. 

" One day," she continues, " Kitty and I were going 
to take a walk on the Bay, to get something we wanted. 
Just as we had got our hats on, up ran one of the Billets 
into the dining-room, where we were. 

" ' Your servant, ladies.' 

" ' Your servant, sir.' 

" ' Going out, ladies ?' 

" ' Only to take a little walk.' 

" He immediately turned about, and ran down stairs. 
I guessed for what. * * He offered me his 

hand, or rather arm, to lean upon. 

" ' Excuse me, sir,' said I ; ' I will support myself, if 
you please.' 

" ' No, madam, the pavements are very uneven ; you 
may get a fall ; do accept my arm.' 

" ' Pardon me, I cannot.' 

" ' Come, you do not know what your condescension 
may do. I will turn rebel !' 

" ' Will you ?' said I, laughingly — ' Turn rebel first, 
and then offer your arm.' 

" We stopped in another store, where were several 
British officers. After asking for the articles I wanted, 



ELIZA WILKINSON. 235 

J saw a broad roll of ribbon, which appeared to be of 
black and white stripes. 

" ' Go,' said I to the officer who was with us, ' and 
reckon the stripes of that ribbon } see if they are thir- 
teen!' (with an emphasis I spoke the word) — and he 
went, too! 

" ' Yes, they are thirteen, upon my word, madam.' 

" ' Do hand it me.' He did so ; I took it, and found 
that it was narrow black ribbon, carefully wound round 
a broad white. I returned it to its place on the shelf. 

" ' Madam,' said the merchant, ' you can buy the black 
and white too, and tack them in stripes.' 

" ' By no means, sir ; I would not have them slightly 
tacked, but firmly united! The above-mentioned officers 
sat on the counter kicking their heels. How they gaped 
at me when I said this! But the merchant laughed 
heartily." 

Like many others, Mrs. Wilkinson refused to join in 
the amusements of the city while in possession of the 
British ; but gave her energies to the relief of hex 
friends. The women were the more active when 
military efforts were suspended. Many and ingenious 
were the contrivances they adopted, to carry supplies 
from the British garrison, which might be useful to the 
gallant defenders of their country. Sometimes cloth 
for a military coat, fashioned into an appendage to 
female attire, would be borne away, unsuspected by the 
vigilant guards whose business it was to prevent smug- 
gling, and afterwards converted into regimental shape. 
Boots, " a world too wide" for the delicate wearer, were 



230 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

often transferred to the partisan who could not procure 
them for himself. A horseman's helmet has been con- 
cealed under a well-arranged head-dress ; and epau- 
lettes delivered from the folds of a matron's simple 
cap. Other articles in demand for military use, more 
easily conveyed, were regularly brought away by some 
stratagem or other. Feathers and cockades thus se- 
cured, and presented by the fair ones as a trophy, had 
an inestimable value in the eyes of those who received 
them ; and useful apparel was worn with the greater 
satisfaction, that it had not been conveyed without 
some risk on the donor's part. 

It was after the return of Mrs. Wilkinson to Yonge's 
Island, that news was received of the glorious victory 
of Washington over Cornwallis. Her last letter which 
is of any public interest, contains congratulations on 
this event. 

The old family mansion has been removed from the 
island. But the burial-ground is still held sacred ; and 
the memory of Eliza Wilkinson is cherished in the 
hearts of her kindred. 



XVIII. 



MARTHA BRATTON. 

" The memory of Mrs. Martha Bratton. — In the 
hands of an infuriated monster, with the instrument 
of death around her neck, she nobly refused to betray 
her husband ; in the hour of victory she remembered 
mercy, and as a guardian angel, interposed in behalf of 
her inhuman enemies. Throughout the Revolution she 
encouraged the whigs to fight on to the last ; to hope on to 
the end. Honor and gratitude to the woman and 
heroine, who proved herself so faithful a wife — so firm a 
friend to liberty !" 

The above toast was drunk at a celebration of 
Huck's Defeat, given at Brattonsville, York District, 
South Carolina, on the twelfth of July, 1839. The 
ground of the battle that had taken place fifty-nine 
years before, was within a few hundred yards of Dr 
Bratton's residence, inherited from his father, one of 
the heroes of that day. He celebrated the anniversary 
of this triumph of the whigs. Tho cool spring of the 
battle-field, it is said, furnished the only beverage used 
on the occasion. 

The victory gained at this spot had the most impor- 



238 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION 

tant effect on the destinies of the State. It was the first 
check given to the British troops — the first time after 
the fall of Charleston, that the hitherto victorious enemy- 
had been met. It brought confidence to the drooping 
spirits of the patriots, and taught the invaders that 
freemen are not conquered while the mind is free. The 
whigs, inspired with new life and buoyant hopes, began 
to throng together ; the British were again attacked and 
defeated ; a band of resolute and determined spirits took 
the field, and kept it till victory perched upon their 
banners, and South Carolina became an independent 
State. 

The year 1780 was a dark period for the patriots of 
Carolina. Charleston surrendered on the twelfth of 
May; and General Lincoln and the American army 
became prisoners of war. This success was followed up 
by vigorous movements. One expedition secured the 
important post of Ninety-Six; another scoured the 
country bordering on the Savannah ; and Lord Corn- 
wallis passed the Santee and took Georgetown Armed 
garrisons were posted throughout the State, which lay 
at the mercy of the conqueror, to overawe the inhabi- 
tants, and secure a return to their allegiance. For 
several weeks all military opposition ceased ; and it w r as 
the boast of Sir Henry Clinton, that here, at least, the 
American Revolution was ended. A proclamation was 
issued, denouncing vengeance on all who should dare 
appear in arms, save under the royal authority, and 
offering pardon, with a few exceptions, to those who 
would acknowledge it, and accept British protection. 



MARTHA BRATTON. 239 

The great body of the people, believing resistance 
unavailing and hopeless, took the offered protection, 
while those who refused absolute submission were 
exiled or imprisoned. But the fact is recorded that the 
inhabitants of York District never gave their paroles, 
nor accepted protection as British subjects ; preferring 
resistance and exile to subjection and inglorious peace.* 
A few individuals, who were excepted from the benefits 
of the proclamation, with others in whose breasts the 
love of liberty was unconquerable, sought refuge in North 
Carolina. They were followed by the whigs of York, 
Chester, and some other districts bordering on that 
State, who fled from the British troops as they marched 
into the upper country to compel the entire submission 
of the conquered province. These patriot exiles soon 
organized themselves in companies, and under their 
gallant leaders, Sumter, Bratton, Wynn, Moffit and 
others, began to collect on the frontier, and to harass 
the victorious enemy by sudden and desultory attacks. 
At the time when this noble daring was displayed, the 
State was unable to feed or clothe or arm the soldiers. 
They depended on their own exertions for every thing 
necessary to carry on the warfare. They tabernacled 
in the woods and swamps, with wolves and other beasts 

• This fact is dwelt upon in the oration delivered on the occasion by 
Colonel Beatty. Dr. Joseph Johnson of Charleston, to whom I am 
indebted for some of the particulars in Mrs. Bratton's history, thinks it 
due to the circumstance that a large proportion of the settlers in that 
part of the State were of Irish origin, and derived their distrust of 
British faith from traditions of violated rights, contrary to the stipula- 
tions of the treaty of Limerick. 



240 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

of the forest ; and frequently wanted both for food and 
clothing. 

To crush this bold and determined spirit, British 
officers and troops were despatched, in marauding 
parties, to every nook and corner of South Carolina, 
authorised to punish every whig with the utmost rigor, 
and to call upon the loyalists to aid in the work of 
carnage. A body of these marauders, assembled at 
Mobley's Meeting-house in Fairfield District, were 
attacked and defeated in June by a party of whigs 
under the command of Colonel Bratton, Major Wynn, 
and Captain M'Clure. The report of this disaster being 
conveyed to Rocky Mount in Chester District, Colonel 
Turnbull, the commander of a strong detachment of 
British troops at that point, determined on summary 
vengeance, and for that purpose sent Captain Huck, at 
the head of four hundred cavalry, and a considerable 
body of tories, all well mounted, with the following 
order : 

" To Captain Huyck — 

" You are hereby ordered, with the cavalry under 
your command, to proceed to the frontier of the pro- 
vince, collecting all the royal militia with you on your 
march, and with said force to push the rebels as far as 
you may deem convenient."* 

It was at this time that the heroism of the wife of 
Colonel Bratton was so nobly displayed. The evening 

* The order was found in Huck's pocket after death, and is still 
preserved by one of his conquerors. His name is spelt as above in 
the manuscript 



MARTHA BRATTON. 241 

preceding the battle, Huck arrived at Colonel Bratton's 
house. He entered rudely, and demanded where her 
husband was. 

" He is in Sumter's army," was the undaunted reply. 

The officer then essayed persuasion, and proposed to 
Mrs. Bratton to induce her husband to come in and 
join the royalists, promising that he should have a com- 
mission in the royal service. It may well be believed, 
that arguments were used, which must have had a 
show of reason at the time, when the people gene- 
rally had given up all hopes and notions of independ- 
ence. But Mrs. Bratton answered with heroic firm- 
ness, that she would rather see him remain true to 
his duty to his country, even if he perished in Sumter's 
army. 

The son of Mrs. Bratton, Dr. John S. Bratton, who 
was then a child, remembers that Huck was caressing 
him on his knee while speaking to his mother. On 
receiving her answer, he pushed the boy off so sud- 
denly, that his face was bruised by the fall. At the 
same time, one of Huck's soldiers, infuriated at her 
boldness, and animated by the spirit of deadly animosity 
towards the whigs which then raged in its greatest 
violence, seized a reaping-hook that hung near them 
in the piazza, and brought it to her throat, with inten- 
tion to kill her. Still she refused to give information 
that might endanger her husband's safety. There is no 
mention made of any interference on the part of Cap- 
tain Huck to save her from the hands of his murderous 
ruffian. But the officer second in command interposed, 
11 



242 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

and compelled the soldier to release her. They took 
prisoners three old men, whom, with another they had 
captured during the day, they confined in a corn- 
crib. 

Huck then ordered Mrs. Bratton to have supper pre- 
pared for him and his troopers. It may be conceived 
with what feelings she saw her house occupied by the 
enemies of her husband and her country, and found 
herself compelled to minister to their wants. What 
wild and gloomy thoughts had possession of her soul, is 
evident from the desperate idea that occurred to her of 
playing a Roman's part, and mingling poison, which 
she had in the house, with the food they were to eat ; 
thus delivering her neighbors from the impending dan- 
ger. But her noble nature shrank from such an ex- 
pedient, even to punish the invaders of her home. She 
well knew, too, the brave spirit that animated her hus- 
band and his comrades. They might even now be 
dogging the footsteps of the enemy ; they might be 
watching the opportunity for an attack. They might 
come to the house also. She would not have them owe 
to a cowardly stratagem the victory they should win in 
the field of battle. Having prepared the repast, she re- 
tired with her children to an upper apartment. 

After they had supped, Huck and his officers went to 
another house about half a mile off, owned by James 
Williamson, to pass the night. His troops lay encamped 
around it. A fenced road passed the door, and sen- 
tinels were posted along the road. The soldiers slept 
in fancied security, and the guard kept negligent watch; 



MARTHA BRATTON. 243 

they dreamed not of the scene that awaited them ; 
the}' knew not that defeat and death were impending. 
Colonel Bratton, with a party chiefly composed of his 
neighbors, had that day left Mecklenburg County 
North Carolina, under the conviction that the royalists 
would shortly send forces into the neighborhood of 
their homes, to revenge the defeat of the tories at 
Mobley's Meeting-House. With a force of only 
seventy-five men — for about fifty had dropped off on 
the way — Colonel Bratton and Captain McClure, hav- 
ing received intelligence of the position and numbers 
of the enemy, marched to within a short distance of 
their encampment. The whigs arrived at night, and 
after concealing their horses in a swamp, Bratton him- 
self reconnoitered the encampment, advancing within 
the line of sentinels. The party of Americans divided 
to enclose the enemy ; one-half coming up the lane, 
the other being sent round to take the opposite direc- 
tion. Huck and his officers were still sleeping when 
the attack commenced, and were aroused by the roar 
of the American guns. Huck made all speed to mount 
his horse, and several times rallied his men ; but his 
efforts were unavailing : the spirit and determined 
bravery of the patriots carried all before them. The 
rout was complete. As soon as Huck and another 
officer fell, his men threw down their arms and fled.* 

* It is said that Huck was shot by John Carrol, who, as well as his 
brother Thomas, was a brave and daring soldier, his valor being always 
of the most impetuous kind. A brief, but characteristic description 
of him has been given by another Revolutionary hero : " He was a 



244 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Some were killed, or mortally wounded ; some perished 
in the woods ; the rest escaped, or were made prisoners. 
In the pursuit the conflict raged around Bratton's house ; 
and Mrs. Bratton and her children, anxious to look out, 
were in some danger from the shots. She made her 
little son, much against his will, sit within the chimney. 
While he was there, a ball struck against the opposite 
jam, and was taken up by him as a trophy. The battle 
lasted about an hour ; it was bloody, though brief; and 
it is stated that the waters of the spring, which now 
gush forth so bright and transparent, on that memorable 
spot, were then crimsoned with the tide of human life. 
About daylight, when the firing had ceased, Mrs. Brat- 
ton ventured out, anxious, and fearful of finding her 
nearest and dearest relatives among the dead and 
wounded lying around her dwelling. But none of her 
loved ones had fallen. Her house was opened alike to 
the wounded on both sides ; and she humanely at- 
tended the sufferers in person, affording them, indiscrim- 
inately, every relief and comfort in her power to 
bestow ; feeding and nursing them, and supplying 
their wants with the kindest and most assiduous 
attention. Thus her lofty spirit was displayed no less 
by her humanity to the vanquished, than by her courage 
and resolution in the hour of danger. After the death 
of Huck in battle, the officer next in command became 
the leader of the troops. He was among the prisoners 
who surrendered to the whigs, and they were deter- 

whig from the first — he was a whig to the last ; he didn't believe in 
tli«» tories, and he made the tories believe in him " 



MARTHA BRATTON. 245 

mined to put him to death. He entreated, as a last 
favor, to be conducted to the presence of Mrs. Bratton. 
She instantly recognized him as the officer who had in- 
terfered in her behalf and saved her life. Gratitude, as 
well as the mercy natural to woman's heart, prompted 
her now to intercede for him. She pleaded with an elo- 
quence which, considering the share she had borne in 
the common distress and danger, could not be withstood. 
Her petition was granted ; she procured his deliverance 
from the death that awaited him, and kindly entertained 
him till he was exchanged. There is hardly a situation 
in romance or dramatic fiction, which can surpass the 
interest and pathos of this simple incident. 

The evening before the battle, Huck and his troops 
had stopped on their way at the house of Mrs. Adair, 
on South Fishing Creek, at the place where the road 
from Yorkville to Chester court-house now crosses that 
stream. They helped themselves to every thing eatable 
on the premises, and one Captain Anderson laid a strict 
injunction on the old lady, to bring her sons under the 
royal banner. After the battle had been fought, Mrs. 
Adair and her husband were sent for by their sons and 
Colonel Edward Lacy, whom they had brought up, for 
the purpose of sending them into North Carolina for 
safety. When Mrs. Adair reached the battle-ground, 
she dismounted from her horse, and passed round 
among her friends. Presently she came with her sons 
to a tent where several wounded men were lying — An- 
derson among them. She said to him, " Well, Captain, 
you ordered me last night to bring in my rebel sons 



246 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Here are two of them ; and if the third had been 
within a day's ride, he would have been here also." 
The chagrined officer replied, " Yes, madam, I have 
seen them." Mrs. Adair was the mother of the late 
Governor John Adair of Kentucky. 

Instances of the noble daring of the women of that 
day, thus thrown " into the circle of mishap," and com- 
pelled to witness so many horrors, and share so many 
dangers, were doubtless of almost hourly occurrence. 
But of the individuals whose faithful memory retain- 
ed the impression of those scenes, how few survive 
throughout the land! Enquiries made on this subject 
are continually met by expressions of regret that some 
relative who has within a few years descended to the 
grave, was not alive to describe events of those trying 

times. " If you could only have heard or 

talk of Revolutionary scenes, volumes might have been 
filled with the anecdotes they remembered!" is the 
oft-repeated exclamation, which causes regret that the 
tribute due has been so long withheld from the memory 
of those heroines. 

The defeat of Huck had the immediate effect of 
bringing the whigs together ; and in a few days a large 
accession of troops joined the army of Sumter. The 
attack on the British at Rocky Mount was shortly 
followed by a complete victory over them at Hanging 
Rock. 

Another anecdote is related of Mrs. Bratton. Before 
the fall of Charleston, when effectual resistance through- 
out the State was in a great measure rendered impossible 



MARTHA BRATTON. 247 

by the want of ammunition, Governor Rutledge had 
sent a supply to all the regiments, to enable them to 
harass the invading army. Many of these supplies 
were secured by the patriots in the back country, by 
secreting them in hollow trees and the like hiding-places; 
others fell into the hands of the enemy or were destroy- 
ed. The portion given to Colonel Bratton was in his 
occasional absence from home confided to the care of 
his wife. Some loyalists who heard of this, informed 
the British officer in command of the nearest station, 
and a detachment was immediately sent forward to 
secure the valuable prize. Mrs. Bratton was informed 
of their near approach, and was aware that there could be 
no chance of saving her charge. She resolved that the 
enemy should not have the benefit of it. She therefore 
immediately laid a train of powder from the depot to 
the spot whei*e she stood, and, when the detachment 
came in sight, set fire to the train, and blew it up. The 
explosion that greeted the ears of the foe, informed 
them that the object of their expedition was frustrated. 
The officer in command, irritated to fury, demanded who 
had dared to perpetrate such an act, and threatened 
instant and severe vengeance upon the culprit. The 
•ntrepid woman to whom he owed his disappointment 
answered for herself. " It was I who did it," she replied. 
" Let the consequence be what it will, I glory in having 
prevented the mischief contemplated by the cruel enemies 
of my country." 

Mrs. Bratton was a native of Rowan County, North 
Carolina, where she married William Bratton, a Penn- 



248 WOMEN OP THE REVOLUTION. 

sylvanian of Irish parentage, who resided in Yorn 
District in the State of South Carolina. The grant of 
his land, which is still held by his descendants, was 
taken out under George the Third. In the troubled 
times that preceded the commencement of hostilities, 
the decision of character exhibited by Mr. and Mrs. 
Bratton, and their exemplary deportment, gave them 
great influence among their neighbors. Colonel Bratton 
continued in active service during the war, and was 
prominent in the battles of Rocky Mount, Hanging Rock, 
Guilford, etc., and in most of the skirmishes incident 
to the partisan warfare under General Sumter. During 
his lengthened absences from home, he was seldom 
able to see or communicate with his family. A soldier's 
perils add lustre to his deeds; but the heart of the 
deeply anxious wife must have throbbed painfully when 
she heard of them. She, Iwwever, never complained, 
though herself a sufferer from the ravages of war ; but 
devoted herself to the care of her family, striving at the 
same time to aid and encourage her neighbors. On 
the return of peace, her husband resumed the cultivation 
of his farm. Grateful for the preservation of their lives 
and property, they continued industriously occupied m 
agricultural pursuits to a ripe old age, enjoying to the 
full 

" That which should accompany old age, 
As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends." 

Colonel B'-atton died at his residence two miles south 



MARTHA BRATTON. 249 

of Yorkville, now the seat of Mrs. Harriet Bratton; 
and his wife, having survived him less than a year, 
died at the same place in January, 1916. They were 
buried by the side of each other. 



ir 



XIX. 



JANE THOMAS. 

The state of popular feeling after the occupation of 
Charleston by the British, and during the efforts made 
to establish an undisputed control over the State, might 
be in some measure illustrated by the life of Mrs. 
Thomas, were there materials for a full narrative of 
incidents in which she and her neighbors bore an active 
or passive part. It is in wild and stirring times that 
such spirits are nurtured, and arise in their strength. 
She was another of the patriotic females in whose 
breast glowed such ardent patriotism, that no personal 
hazard could deter from service, wherever service 
could be rendered. She was a native of Chester County, 
Pennsylvania, and the sister of the Reverend John 
Black, of Carlisle, the first president of Dickinson 
College. She was married about 1740, to John Thomas, 
supposed to be a native of Wales, who had been brought 
up in the same county. Some ten or fifteen years 
after his marriage, Mr. Thomas removed to South 
Carolina. His residence for some time was upon 
Fishing Creek in Chester District. About the year 
17G2, he removed to what is now called Spartanburg 



JANE THOMAS. 251 

District, and settled upon Fairforest Creek, a few 
miles above the spot where the line dividing that district 
from Union crosses the stream. Mrs. Thomas was 
much beloved and respected in that neighborhood. She 
was one of the first members of the Presbyterian congre- 
gation organized about that time, and known as Fair- 
forest church, of which she continued a zealous and 
efficient member as long as she resided within* its 
bounds. 

For many years previous to the commencement of 
the Revolutionary war, Mr. Thomas was a magistrate 
and a captain of militia. Before hostilities began, he 
resigned both these commissions. When Colonel 
Fletcher refused to accept a commission under the 
authority of the province of South Carolina, an election 
was held, and John Thomas was chosen Colonel of the 
Spartan regiment. The proximity of this regiment to 
the frontier imposed a large share of active service on 
the soldiers belonging to it, and devolved great responsi- 
bilities upon its commander. Colonel Thomas led out 
his quota of men to repel the Indians in 1776, and 
shared the privations and dangers connected with 
the expedition under General Williamson into the heart 
of the Indian territory, in the autumn of that year. 
When that campaign terminated, and the Indians sued 
for peace, the protection of a long line of the frontier 
was intrusted to him. With diligence, fidelity and zeal 
did he perform this duty; and retained his command 
till after the fall of Charleston. 

As soon as the news of the surrender of that city 



252 WOMEN CF THE REVOLUTION. 

reached the borders of the State, measures were con- 
certed by Colonels Thomas, Brandon and Lysles, for 
the concentration of their forces with a view to protect 
the country. Their schemes were frustrated by the 
devices of Colonel Fletcher, who still remained in the 
neighborhood. Having discovered their intentions, he 
gave notice to some British troops recently marched 
int# the vicinity, and to a body of tory cavalry thirty 
miles distant. These were brought together, and sur- 
prised the force collected by Brandon at the point desig- 
nated, before the others had time to arrive. Within a 
short time after this event, almost every whig between 
the Broad and Saluda rivers was compelled to abandon 
the country or accept British protection. Numbers of 
them fled to North Carolina. Colonel Thomas, then 
advanced in life, with some others in like defenceless 
circumstances, took protection. By this course, they 
hoped to secure permission to remain unmolested 
with their families ; but in this supposition they were 
lamentably mistaken. It was not long before Colonel 
Thomas was arrested, and sent to prison at Ninety- 
Six. Thence he was conveyed to Charleston, where 
he remained in durance till near the close of the war. 
It was the policy of Cornwallis, whom Sir Henry 
Clinton, on his departure to New York, had left in 
command of the royal army, to compel submission by 
the severest measures. The bloody slaughter under 
Tarleton at Waxhaw Creek, was an earnest of what 
those who ventured resistance might expect. This 
course was pursued with unscrupulous cruelty, and the 



JANE THCMAS. 253 

unfortunate patriots were made to feel the vengeance of 
exasperated tyranny. He hoped thus eventually to 
crush and extinguish the spirit still struggling and 
flashing forth, like hidden fire, among the people whom 
the arm of power had for a season brought under subjec- 
tion. But the oppressor, though he might overawe, 
could not subdue the spirit of a gallant and outraged 
people. The murmur of suffering throughout the land 
rose ere long into a mighty cry for deliverance. The 
royal standard became an object of execration. And 
while brave leaders were at hand — while the fearless 
and determined Sumter could draw about him the 
hardy sons of the upper and middle country — while the 
patriotic Marion, ever fertile in resource, could harass 
the foe from his impenetrable retreat in the recesses of 
forests and swamps ; while the resolute and daring 
Pickens could bring his bold associates to join in the 
noble determination to burst the chains riveted on a 
prostrate land — and others of the same mould, familiar 
with difficulties, accustomed to toil and danger, and 
devoted to the cause of their suffering country, were 
ready for prompt and energetic action — hope could be 
entertained that all was not yet lost. The outrages 
committed by the profligate and abandoned, whose 
loyalty was the cover for deeds of rapine and blood, 
served but to bind in closer union the patriots who 
watched their opportunity for annoying the enemy, and 
opening a way for successful resistance. 

One of the congenial co-operators in these plans of 
the British commander, was Colcnel Ferguson. He 



254 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

encouraged the loyalists to take arms, and led them to 
desolate the homes of their neighbors. About the last 
of June he came into that part of the country where 
the family of Colonel Thomas lived, and caused great 
distress by the pillage and devastation of the bands of 
tories who hung around his camp. The whigs were 
robbed of their negroes, horses, cattle, clothing, bedding, 
and every article of property of sufficient value to take 
away. These depredations were frequent, the expedi- 
tions for plunder being sometimes weekly; and were 
continued as long as the tories could venture to show 
their faces. In this state of things, while whole families 
suffered, female courage and fortitude were called into 
active exercise; and Mrs. Thomas showed herself a 
bright example of boldness, spirit and determination. 

While her husband was a prisoner at Ninety-Six, 
she paid a visit to him and her two sons, who were his 
companions in rigorous captivity. By chance she 
overheard a conversation between some tory women, 
the purport of which deeply interested her. One said 
to the others : " To-morrow night the loyalists intend to 
surprise the rebels at Cedar Spring." 

The heart of Mrs. Thomas was thrilled with alarm 
at this intelligence. The Cedar Spring was within a 
few miles of her house ; the whigs were posted there, 
and among them were some of her own children. 

Her resolution was taken at once ; for there was no 
time to be lost. She determined to apprise them of the 
enemy's intention, before the blow could be struck. 
Bidding a hasty adieu to her husband and sons, she 



JANE THOMAS. 255 

was upon the road as quickly as possible ; rode the 
intervening distance of nearly sixty miles the next day, 
and arrived in time to bring information to her sons 
and friends of the impending danger. The moment 
they knew what was to be expected, a brief consultation 
was held; and measures were immediately taken for 
defence. The soldiers withdrew a short distance from 
their camp-fires, which were prepared to burn as brightly 
as possible. The men selected suitable positions in the 
surrounding woods. 

Their preparations were just completed, when they 
heard in the distance, amid the silence of night, the 
cautious advance of the foe. The scene was one which 
imagination, far better than the pen of the chronicler, 
can depict. Slowly and warily, and with tread as 
noiseless as possible, the enemy advanced ; till they 
were already within the glare of the blazing fires, and 
safely, as it seemed, on the verge of their anticipated 
work of destruction. No sound betrayed alarm; they 
supposed the intended victims wrapped in heavy 
slumbers ; they heard but the crackling of the flames, 
and the hoarse murmur of the wind as it swept through 
the pine trees. The assailants gave the signal for the 
onset, and rushed towards the fires — eager for indis- 
criminate slaughter. Suddenly the flashes and sin-ill 
reports of rifles revealed the hidden champions of liberty. 
The enemy, to their consternation, found themselves 
assailed in the rear by the party they had expected to 
strike unawares. Thrown into confusion by this unex- 
pected reception, defeat, overwhelming defeat, was 



156 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

the consequence to the loyalists. They were abow 
one hundred and fifty strong, while the whigs numbered 
only about sixty. The victory thus easily achieved 
they owed to the spirit and courage of a woman ! Such 
were the matrons of that day. 

Not merely upon this occasion was Mrs. Thomas 
active in conveying intelligence to her friends, and in 
arousing the spirit of Independence among its advo- 
cates. She did, as well as suffered much, during the 
period of devastation and lawless rapine. One instance 
of her firmness is well remembered. Early in the war 
Governor Rutledge sent a quantity of arms and ammu- 
nition to the house of Colonel Thomas, to be in readi- 
ness for any emergency that might arise on the frontier. 
These munitions were under a guard of twenty-five 
men ; and the house was prepared to resist assault. 
Colonel Thomas received information that a large party 
of tories, under the command of Colonel More of 
North Carolina, was advancing to attack him. He 
and his guard deemed it inexpedient to risk an en- 
counter with a force so much superior to their own ; 
and they therefore retired, carrying off as much am- 
munition as possible. Josiah Culbertson, a son-in-law 
of Colonel Thomas, who was with the little garrison, 
would not go with the others, but remained in the 
house. Besides him and a youth, the only inmates 
were women. The tories advanced, and took up their 
station ; but the treasure was not to be yielded to their 
demand. Their call for admittance was answered by 
an order to leave the premises ; and their fire was re- 



JANE THOMAS. 257 

ceived without much injury by the logs of the house. 
The fire was quickly returned from the upper story, 
and proved much more effectual than that of the assail- 
ants. The old-fashioned "batten door," strongly barri- 
caded, resisted their efforts to demolish it. Meanwhile 
Culbertson continued to fire, the guns being loaded as 
fast as he discharged them, by the ready hands of Mrs. 
Thomas and her daughters, aided by her son William ; 
and this spirited resistance soon convinced the enemy 
that further effort was useless. Believing that many 
men were concealed in the house, and apprehending a 
sally, their retreat was made as rapidly as their wounds 
would permit. After waiting a prudent time, and re- 
connoitering as well as she could from her position 
above, Mrs. Thomas descended the stairs, and opened 
the doors. When her husband made his appearance, 
and knew how gallantly the plunderers had been re- 
pulsed, his joy was only equalled by admiration of his 
wife's heroism. The powder thus preserved constituted 
the principal supply for Sumter's army in the battles at 
Rocky Mount and Hanging Rock. 

Mrs. Thomas was the mother of nine children ; and 
her sons and sons-in-law were active in the American 
service. John, the eldest son, rose during the war 
from the rank of captain till he succeeded his father in 
the command of the Spartan regiment. This he com- 
manded at the battle of the Cowpens, and elsewhere. 
He was with Sumter in several of his most important 
engagements. Robert, another son, was killed in Roe- 
buck's defeat. Abram, who was wounded at Ninety-Six 



OMEN 



258 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

and taken prisoner died in the enemy's hands. Wil- 
liam, the youth who had assisted in defending his home 
on the occasion mentioned, took part in other actions. 
Thus Mrs. Thomas was liable to some shai'e of the 
enmity exhibited by the royalists towards another 
matron, against whom the charge, " She has seven 
sons in the rebel army," was an excuse for depredations 
on her property. If she had but four sons, she had 
sons-in-law who were likewise brave and zealous in the 
cause. Martha, one of the daughters, married Josiah 
Culbertson, who was the most effective scout in the 
country. He fought the Indians single-handed and in 
the army ; was in nearly every important battle ; and 
killed a number of celebrated tories in casual encounter. 
He seems to have been a special favorite with Colonel 
Isaac Shelby, in whose regiment he served in the battle 
at Musgrove's Mill, King's Mountain, and elsewhere. 
To this officer his daring spirit and deadly aim with 
the rifle, especially commended him ; and he was em- 
ployed by Shelby in the execution of some important 
trusts. He received a captain's commission towards 
the close of the war. 

Ann was the wife of Joseph McJunkin, who entered 
the service of his country as a private, at the age of 
twenty, and rose to the rank of major before the close 
of 1780. He was in most of the battles before March, 
1781, and contributed much to the success of those 
fought at Hanging Rock, Musgrove's Mill, Blackstock's 
Ford, and the Cowpens. This brave and faithful officer 
died in 1840. A sketch of his life, by the Rev. James 



JA.NB THOMAS. 259 

H. Saye, of South Carolina, is in preparation, and has 
in part been published. 

Jane, the third daughter, married Captain Joseph 
McCool ; and Letitia was the wife of Major James 
Lusk. Both these were brave and efficient patriots ; 
but the scenes of their exploits, and, the success that 
attended them, are now remembered but in tradition. 
Of how many who deserve the tribute of their coun- 
try's gratitude, is history silent! Every member of this 
family, it will thus be seen, had a personal interest in 
the cause of the country. 

Not only was Mrs. Thomas distinguished for her in- 
domitable perseverance where principle and right were 
concerned, and for her ardent spirit of patriotism, but 
for eminent piety, discretion, and industry. Her daugh- 
ters exhibited the same loveliness of character, with the 
uncommon beauty of person which they inherited from 
her. All accounts represent Mrs. Culbertson as a wo- 
man of great beauty ; and her sister Ann is said to 
have been little inferior to her in personal appearance. 
Mrs. Thomas herself was rather below the ordinary 
stature, with black eyes and hair, rounded and pleasing 
features, fair complexion, and countenance sprightly 
and expressive. 

Soon after the close of the war, Colonel Thomas 
removed into Greenville district, where he and his wife 
resided till their death. But few of their descendants 
remain in the section of country where their parents 
lived, being scattered over the regions of the far West. 
To the gentlemar. already mentioned as the biographer 



260 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

of McJunkin, I am indebted for all these details, ascei 
tained from authentic papers in his possession. 



A few anecdotes of other women in the region 
where Mrs. Thorrjas lived during the war, are of inte- 
rest as showing the state of the times. Isabella Sims, 
the wife of Captain Charles Sims, resided on Tyger 
River, six or seven miles below the scene of Brandon's 
defeat, above mentioned, on Fairforest Creek. When 
she heard of that disaster, she went up and devoted 
herself for several days to nursing the wounded soldiers. 
Daniel McJunkin shared her maternal care, and re- 
covered to render substantial service afterwards. 

On another occasion, having heard the noise of battle 
during the afternoon and night, she went up early in 
the morning to Leighton's. A scout consisting of eight 
whigs had been surrounded by a very large body of 
tories. Some of the scouts made their escape by charg- 
ing through the line ; four defended themselves in the 
house till after dark, when they surrendered. Mrs. 
Sims, on her arrival, found that John Jolly, a whig 
officer who belonged to the vicinity, had been shot in 
attempting to escape. She sent for his wife, and made 
the necessary arrangements for his decent burial. 
Sarah, his widow, was left with five children ; and for 
a time had great difficulty in procuring a subsistence. 
Her house was visited almost weekly by plundering 
parties, and robbed of food and clothing. At one tim^ 



MBS. SIMS *ND MRS. OTTERSON. 261 

one of the robbers remained after the others had gone ; 
and to an order to depart returned a refusal, with abu- 
sive and profane language. The exasperated mother 
seized a stick, with which she broke his arm, and drove 
him from the premises. 

Not long after the death of Jolly, the famous Cun- 
ningham, a tory colonel who acted a prominent part in 
the partisan warfare of Laurens, Newberry, and Edge- 
field districts, came with a squadron of cavalry to the 
house of Captain Sims, who was gone for safety to 
North Carolina. Calling Mrs. Sims to the door, Cun- 
ningham ordered her to quit the place in three days ; 
saying if he found the family there on his return, he 
would shut them in the house and burn it over them. 
Mrs. Sims fled with her family across the country to 
the house of a friendly old man ; and remained there 
till her husband came and took them to York District, 
and thence to Virginia. 

The wife of Major Samuel Otterson, a distinguished 
patriot, who lived also on Tyger River, chanced to 
know the place where a barrel of powder was con-, 
cealed in the woods close at hand. She received intel- 
ligence one night that a party of tories would come for 
the treasure the next morning. Resolved that it should 
not fall into their hands, she prepared a train imme- 
diately, and blew up the powder. In the morning came 
the enemy, and on their demand for it, were told by 
Mrs. Otterson what she had done. They refused to 
believe her, but cut off her dress at the waist, and drove 



262 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

her before them to show the place of deposit. The 
evidence of its fate was conclusive, when they reached 
the spot. 

Other instances of female intrepidity are rife in 
popular memory. Miss Nancy Jackson, who lived in 
the Irish settlement near Fairforest Creek, kicked a 
tory down the steps as he was descending loaded with 
plunder. In a great rage he threatened to send the 
Hessian troops there next day; which obliged her to 
take refuge with an acquaintance several miles distant. 
On one occasion the house of Samuel McJunkin, a 
stout patriot, but too old for the battle-field, was visited 
by a party under the noted Colonel Patrick Moore. 
They stayed all night; and when about to depart, strip- 
ped the house of bed-clothes and wearing apparel. 
The last article taken was a bed-quilt, which one Bill 
Haynesworth placed upon his horse. Jane, Mr. McJun- 
kin's daughter, seized it, and a struggle ensued. The 
soldiers amused themselves by exclaiming, " Well done, 
woman !" — " Well done, Bill !" For once the colonel's 
feelings of gallantry predominated ; and he swore if 
Jane could take the quilt from the man, she should have 
it. Presently in the contest, Bill's feet slipped from 
under him, and he lay panting on the ground. Jane 
placed one foot upon his breast and wrested the quilt 
from his grasp. 



XX 



DORCAS RICHARDSON.* 

Fruitful in noble spirits were those wild and gloomy 
times ; and woman's high truth and heroic devotion 
noured a solemn radiance over the dreary and appalling 
scenes of civil war. No pen has recorded the instances 
innumerable in which her virtues shone conspicuous ; 
they are forgotten by those who enjoy the benefits thus 
secured ; or but a vague recollection remains — or an 
example is here and there remembered in family tra- 
dition. Even to these examples what meagre justice 
can be done by the few scattered and desultory anec- 
dotes which must take the place of a complete his- 
tory ! 

Living in the midst of the storm and struggle, and 
bearing more than her own share of the terrible trials 
which fell to woman's lot, Mrs. Richardson afforded an 
example of modest heroism, and of humble, cheerful 
faith. Her residence was in Clarendon, Sumter Dis- 
trict. She was the daughter of Captain John Nelson, 

* For the details of this sketch I am indebted to the kindness of 
Dr. Joseph Johnson, of Charleston, jvho has collected and pre 
served many interesting anecdotes of the war in South Carolina. 



264 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

a native of Ireland, who married Miss Brownson, of 
South Carolina. The ferry over the Santee River, 
established and kept for several years by them, is still 
called Nelson's Ferry ; and many of their descendants 
continue to live on both sides of the river. It is said 
that Lord Cornwallis, on his march into the interior, 
after the fall of Charleston, established his head-quarters 
at this ferry, at the house of the widow Nelson. She 
received from, him an assurance that her property 
should be protected. When a large quantity of plate 
which she had buried for security was discovered and 
claimed as a prize by the captors, she reminded his 
lordship of his promise ; but he refused to order the re- 
storation of the plate, saying that the protection he had 
pledged extended only to things above ground ! 

Dorcas was married at the age of twenty, in 1761, 
and removed to her husband's plantation, situated about 
twenty miles further up the river, on the east side, near 
the junction of the Congaree and Wateree. In this 
home of peace, contentment, and abundance, she en- 
joyed all the comforts of southern country life among 
the prosperous class, till the outburst of that storm in 
which the fortunes and happiness of so many patriots 
were wrecked. 

At the commencement of the war Richard Richard- 
son was cap lain of a company of militia in the brigade 
of his father General Richardson ; and with him em- 
braced the quarrel of the Colonies, in defence of their 
chartered rights. Both were zealous, firm, and influ- 
ential officers. The captain was frequently called out 



DORCAS RICHARDSON. 265 

with his company by order of the new government ; 
and his first expedition was against the loyalists in the 
upper districts, incited by the royal governor, Lord 
William Campbell. General Richardson commanded, 
and was aided by Colonel William Thompson with his 
regiment of regulars called the Rangers. The enemy 
was dispersed, most of their leaders captured, and the 
arms and ammunition they had seized recovered. Cap- 
tain Richardson was appointed with his mounted men 
to guard the prisoners to Charleston. This occurrence 
took place at the close of 1775 ; and the winter having 
set in earlier than usual with uncommon severity, the 
young soldiers suffering much from the cold, sleet, and 
snow, it was called the Snow Campaign. 

When the three regiments of regulars were raised 
and officered in 1775, Captain Richardson and his 
father were retained in the militia on account of their 
great popularity and influence; Edward, a younger 
brother, being appointed captain of the Rangers under 
Colonel Thompson. A second regiment of riflemen, 
however, was raised in March of the following year ; 
and Richard Richardson was appointed captain under 
Colonel Thomas Sumter. From this time, during the 
six succeeding years, he was able to be very little at 
home with his family. At the surrender of Charleston 
he was taken prisoner with his father and brother. In 
violation of the terms of capitulation, Richard was 
sent to a military station on John's Island, where he 
nearly fell a victim to the small-pox. The British hav- 
ing failed to observe the conditions on which he had 
12 



266 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

surrendered, as soon as he recovered sufficiently to 
move about, he made his escape ; and being disguised 
by the effects of the disease, returned to the neighbor- 
hood of his home, where he concealed himself in the 
Santee Swamp. This extensive swamp-land bouders 
the river for many miles, presenting to the view a vast 
plain of dense woods which seem absolutely imper- 
vious. The recesses of those dark thickets, where the 
trees grow close together, and are interlaced by a luxu- 
riant growth of giant creepers, often afforded hiding- 
places for the hunted Americans. At this time the 
British troops had overrun the State ; and Colonel 
Tarleton had made the house of Captain Richardson, 
with some others, a station for his regiment of cavalry. 
They lived luxuriously on the abundance of his richly- 
stocked and well-cultivated plantation ; while Mrs. 
Richardson and her children, it is said, were restricted 
to a single apartment, and allowed but a scanty share 
of the provisions furnished from her own stores. Her© 
was an occasion for the exercise of self-denial, that the 
wants of one dear to her might be supplied. Every 
day she sent food from her small allowance to her hus- 
band in the swamp, by an old and faithful negro, in 
whose care and discretion she could implicitly trust. 
She had expected the seizure of her horses and cattle 
by the British, and had sent Richardson's favorite 
riding-horse into the swamp for concealment, with a 
few cattle which she wished to save for future need. 
Every thing that fell into the enemy's hands was con- 
sumed. The horse was shut up in a covered pen in 



DORCAS RICHARDSON. 267 

the woods, which had once been used for holding corn ; 
and he thence received the name of Corncrib. He 
was subsequently killed in the battle of Eutaw. 

Mrs. Richardson not only sent provisions to her hus 
band in his place of shelter, but sometimes ventured to 
visit him, taking with her their little daughter. These 
stolen meetings were full of consolation to the fugitive 
soldier. The spot he had chosen for his retreat was a 
small knoll or elevation in the heart of the swamp, 
called " John's Island," by way of distinction from 
another in the neighborhood, occupied by other whigs, 
which bore the name of " Beech Island." On this 
many of their initials may still be seen, carved on the 
bark of the trees. 

It was not long before the British had information of 
Richardson's escape. They naturally concluded that 
he was somewhere in the vicinity of his family and 
relatives. A diligent search was instituted ; scouts 
were sent in every direction, and they watched to sur- 
prise him, or find some clue to his retreat. In secret 
and publicly rewards were offered for his apprehension ; 
but without success. One day an officer, caressing the 
little girl, asked when she had seen her papa ; the mo- 
ther grew pale, but dared not speak, for a short time 
only had elapsed since the child had been taken on a 
visit to her father. The thoughtless prattler answered 
promptly, that she had seen him only a few days before. 
" And where ?" asked the officer, eager to extract in- 
formation from innocent lips that might betray the 
patriot. The child replied without hesitation, " On 



268 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

John's Island." The officer knew of no place so called 
except the large sea island from which Richardson had 
escaped. After a moment's reflection, he came to the 
conclusion that the child had been dreaming, and re 
lieved the mother's throbbing heart by saying, " Pshaw, 
that was a long time ago !" It may well be believed 
that the little tell-tale was not trusted with another visit 
to the spot. 

Not unfrequently did the officers, in the most unfeel- 
ing manner, boast in the presence of the wife, of what 
they would do to her husband when they should cap- 
ture him. Once only did she deign the reply, "I do 
not doubt that men who can outrage the feelings of a 
woman by such threats, are capable of perpetrating any 
act of treachery and inhumanity towards a brave but 
unfortunate enemy. But conquer or capture my hus- 
band, if you can do so, before you boast the cruelty 
you mean to mark your savage triumph ! And let me 
tell you, meanwhile, that some of you, it is likely, will 
be in a condition to implore his mercy, before he will 
have need to supplicate, or deign to accept yours." 
This prediction was literally verified in more than one 
instance during the eventful remainder of the war. 

Tarleton himself was frequently present during these 
scenes, apparently a pleased, though generally a silent 
spectator. He would remark at times, in the way of 
self-vindication, "that he commiserated the trials, and 
wondered at the endurance, of this heroic woman ; but 
that his sanction of such proceedings was necessary to 
the success of His Majesty's cause." Weak cause, 



DORCAS RICHARDSON. 2fi9 

indeed, that was constrained to wring the cost of its 
maintenance from the bleeding hearts of wives and 
mothers ! 

On one occasion some of the officers displayed in the 
sight of Mrs. Richardson, their swords reeking with 
blood — probably that of her cattle — and told her it was 
the blood of Captain Richardson, whom they had 
killed. At another time they brought intelligence that 
he had been taken and hanged. In this state of cruel 
suspense she sometimes remained for several successive 
days, unable to learn the fate of her husband, and not 
knowing whether to believe or distrust the horrible 
tales brought to her ears. 

One day, when the troops were absent on some expedi- 
tion, Captain Richardson ventured on a visit to his 
home. A happy hour was it to the anxious wife and 
faithful domestics, when they could greet him once 
more in his own mansion. But before he thought of 
returning to his refuge in the forest, a patrolling party 
of the enemy appeared unexpectedly at the gate. Mrs. 
Richardson's presence of mind and calm courage were 
in instant requisition, and proved the salvation of the 
hunted patriot. Seeing the British soldiers about to 
come in, she pretended to be intently busy about some- 
thing in the front door, and stood in the way, retarding 
their entrance. The least appearance of agitation or 
fear — the least change of color — might have betrayed 
all by exciting suspicion. But with a self-control as 
rare as admirable, she hushed even the wild beating of 
her heart, and continued to stand in the way, till her 



270 WOMEN OP* THE REVOLUTION. 

husband had time to retire through the back door, into 
the swamp near at hand. The brave captain was not 
idle in his seclusion ; but collecting around him the 
whigs of his acquaintance who remained firm in their 
devotion to their native land, he trained them daily in 
cavalry exercise. When Tarleton ravaged the planta- 
tion and burnt the dwelling of his deceased father, 
General Richardson, he passed so near the ruins as to 
see the extent of the desolation. General Marion hap- 
pened at that time to be in a very critical situation, and 
unaware of the great superiority of the enemy's force 
close at hand. The gallant Richardson hastened to his 
aid; joined him, and conducted the retreat of his army, 
which was immediately commenced and successfully exe- 
cuted. The British were not long in discovering that 
the captain had joined the forces of Marion ; and their 
deportment to his wife was at once changed. One and 
all professed a profound respect for her brave and 
worthy husband, whose services they were desirous of 
securing. They endeavored to obtain her influence 
to prevail on him to join the royal army, by promises 
of pardon, wealth, and honorable promotion. The high- 
spirited wife treated all such offers with the contempt 
they deserved, and refused to be made instrumental to 
their purposes. They then despatched his brother 
Edward, who was a prisoner on parole upon the adjoin- 
ing plantation, to be the bearer of their offers. By him 
Mrs. Richardson also sent a message to her husband. 
It was to assure him that she did not join in British 
solicitations ; that she and her children were well, and 



DORCAS RICHARDSON. 271 

provided with abundance of every thing necessary for 
their comfort. Thus with heroic art did she conceal 
the privations and wants she was suffering, lest her 
husband's solicitude for her and his family might tempt 
him to waver from strict obedience to the dictates of 
honor and patriotism. 

Edward went as directed to the American camp, 
took his brother into Marion's presence, and there faith- 
fully delivered both messages with which he had been 
charged. The specious offers from the enemy were of 
course rejected, and the messenger, conceiving himself 
absolved from his parole by the treatment he had re- 
ceived, remained with Marion till the termination of 
hostilities in the State. 

Several times after this did Richard place his life in 
peril to visit his amiable family. Hearing that Tarle- 
ton's troop had been ordered away from his plantation, 
he obtained permission to go thither for a short time. 
He arrived in safety ; but had been seen on his way by 
a loyalist. A party of them was immediately assembled, 
and was soon to be seen drawn up in front of his house. 
Corncrib, the faithful steed, was hitched outside the 
gate ; his master hastily came forth, leaped on him, and 
galloping up the avenue, where the enemy were posted, 
passed through the midst of them without receiving 
either a shot or a sabre wound. Just as he passed 
their ranks, one of his well-known neighbors fired at 
him, but missed the aim. All this took place in the 
sight of his terrified family, who often afterwards de- 
scribed his danger and providential escape. His wife 



272 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

could only account for this by conjecturing that tne 
party had determined to take Richardson alive, and 
thus claim the reward offered for his apprehension ; and 
that when in their midst, they could not shoot him 
without the risk of killing some of their comrades. His 
daring gallantry entirely disconcerted them, and saved 
his life. 

Some time after this, he again asked the indulgence 
of a visit to his family ; but General Marion in granting 
it, mindful of the danger he had before encountered, 
insisted that he should be accompanied by an escort. 
The party had scarcely reached the house of Richard- 
son, when, as before, a large body of British and tories 
was seen advancing rapidly down the avenue, eager to 
surprise their intended victims. To remount in all 
haste their wearied steeds, and rush down the bank at 
the rear of the house, seeking concealment in the swamp, 
offered the only chance for escape. In this they all 
succeeded, except a young man named Roberts, with 
whom Mrs. Richardson was well acquainted, and who 
was taken prisoner. In vain did she intercede for him 
with the British officers, and with streaming eyes 
implore them to spare the life of the unfortunate youth. 
They hanged him on a walnut tree only a few paces 
from her door, and compelled her to witness the revolt- 
ing spectacle ! When she complained with tears of 
anguish, of this cruelty to herself, and barbarity towards 
one who had offended by risking his life in defence of 
her husband, they jeeringly told her they " would soon 
have him also, and then she should see him kick like 



DORCAS RICHARDSON. 273 

that fellow." To such atrocities could the passions of 
brutalized men lead them, even in an age and nation 
that boasted itself the most enlightened on earth! 

When peace returned to shed blessings over the 
land, Mrs. Richardson continued to reside in the same 
house, with her family. Tarleton and his troopers had 
wasted the plantation, and destroyed every thing movea- 
ble about the dwelling ; but the buildings had been 
spared, because they were spacious, and afforded a 
convenient station for the British, about midway be- 
tween Camden and Fort Watson on Scott's Lake. 
Colonel Richardson, who had been promoted for his 
meritorious service in the field, cheerfully resumed the 
occupations of a planter. His circumstances were 
much reduced by the chances of war; but a competence 
remained, which he and his wife enjoyed in tranquillity 
and happiness, surrounded- by affectionate relatives and 
friendly neighbors. Of their ten children, four died 
young ; the rest married and reared families. 

Mrs. Richardson survived her husband many years, 
and died at the advanced age of ninety-three, in 1834. 
She was remarkable throughout life for the calm judg- 
ment, fortitude, and strength of mind, which had sustain- 
ed her in the trials she suffered during the war, and pro- 
tected her from injury or insult when surrounded by a 
lawless soldiery. To these elevated qualities she united 
unostentatious piety, and a disposition of uncommon 
serenity and cheerfulness. Her energy and consola- 
tions, through the vicissitudes of life, were derived from 
religion ; it was her hope and triumph in the hour of death. 
12* 



XXI. 



ELIZABETH, GRACE, AND RACHEL MARTIN. 

The daring exploit of two women in Ninety-Six 
District, furnishes an instance of courage as striking as 
any remembered among the traditions of South Carolina 
During the sieges of Augusta and Cambridge, the patri- 
otic enthusiasm that prevailed among the people prompt- 
ed to numerous acts of personal risk and sacrifice. This 
spirit, encouraged by the successes of Sumter and 
others over the British arms, was earnestly fostered by 
General Greene, whose directions marked at least the 
outline of every undertaking. In the efforts made to 
strike a blow at the invader's power, the sons of the 
Martin family were among the most distinguished for 
active service rendered, and for injuries sustained at 
the enemy's hands. The wives of the two eldest, during 
their absence, remained at home with their mother-in- 
law. One evening intelligence came to them that a 
courier, conveying important despatches to one of the 
upper stations, was to pass that night along the road, 
guarded by two British officers. They determined to 
waylay the party, and at the risk of their lives, to obtain 
possession of the papers. For this purpose the two 



ELIZABETH, GRACE, AND RACHEL MARTIN. 275 

young women disguised themselves in their husbands' 
clothes, and being well provided with arms, took their 
station at a point on the road which they knew the 
escort must pass. It was already late, and they had 
not waited long before the tramp of horses was heard 
in the distance. It may be imagined with what anxious 
expectation the heroines awaited the approach of the 
critical moment on which so much depended. The 
forest solitude around them, the silence of night, and the 
darkness, must have added to the terrors conjured up 
by busy fancy. Presently the courier appeared, with 
his attendant guards. As they came close to the spot, 
the disguised women leaped from their covert in the 
bushes, presented their pistols at the officers, and demand- 
ed the instant surrender of the party and their despatches. 
The men were completely taken by surprise, and in 
their alarm at the sudden attack, yielded a prompt sub- 
mission. The seeming soldiers put them on their parole, 
and having taken possession of the papers, hastened 
home by a short cut through the woods. No time was lost, 
in sending the important documents by a trusty messen- 
ger to General Greene. The adventure had a singular 
termination. The paroled officers, thus thwarted in 
their mission, returned by the road they had taken, and 
stopping at the house of Mrs. Martin, asked accommoda- 
tion as weary travellers, for the night. The hostess 
inquired the reason of their returning so soon after 
they had passed. They replied by showing their paroles, 
saying they had been taken prisoners by two rebel lads. 
The ladies rallied them upon their want of intrepidity. 



276 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

" Had you no arms ?" was asked. The officers answer- 
ed that they had arms, but had been suddenly taken off 
their guard, and were allowed no time to use their 
weapons. They departed the next morning, having no 
suspicion that they owed their capture to the very 
women whose hospitality they had claimed. 

The mother of this patriotic family was a native of 
Caroline County, Virginia. Her name was Elizabeth 
Marshall, and she was probably of the same family with 
Chief Justice Marshall, as she belonged to the same 
neighborhood. After her marriage to Abram Martin, 
she removed to his settlement bordering on the Indian 
nation, in Ninety-Six, now Edgefield District, South 
Carolina. The country at that time was sparsely 
settled, most of its inhabitants being pioneers from other 
States, chiefly from Virginia; and their neighborhood to 
the Indians had caused the adoption of some of their 
savage habits. The name Edgefield is said to have 
been given because it was at that period the edge or 
boundary of the respectable settlers and their cultivated 
fields. Civilization, however, increased with the popu- 
lation ; and in the time of the Revolution, Ninety-Six 
was among the foremost in sending into the field its 
quota of hardy and enterprising troops, to oppose the 
British and their savage allies. 

At the commencement of the contest, Mrs. Martin 
had nine children, seven of whom were sons old enough 
to bear arms. These brave young men, under the 
tuition and example of their parents, had grown up in 
attachment to their country, and ardently devoted to 



ELIZABETH, GRACE, AND RACHEL MARTIN. 277 

its service, were ready on every occasion to encounter 
the dangers of border warfare. When the first call for 
volunteers sounded through the land, the mother en- 
couraged their patriotic zeal. "Go, boys," she said; 
" fight for your country! fight till death, if you must, but 
never let your country be dishonored. Were I a man 
I would go with you." 

At another time, when Colonel Cruger commanded 
the British at Cambridge, and Colonel Browne in 
Augusta, several British officers stopped at her house 
for refreshment; and one of them asked how many sons 
she had. She answered — eight ; and to the question, 
where they all were, replied promptly : " Seven of 
them are engaged in the service of their country." 
"Really, madam," observed the officer, sneeringly, 
" you have enough of them." " No sir," said the matron, 
proudly, "I wish I had fifty." 

Her house in the absence of the sons was frequently 
exposed to the depredations of the tories. On one 
occasion they cut open her feather beds, and scattered 
the contents. When the young men returned shortly 
afterwards, their mother bade them pursue the marauders. 
One of the continental soldiers having been left at the 
house badly wounded, Mrs. Martin kindly attended and 
nursed him till his recovery. A party of loyalists who 
heard of his being there, came with the intention of 
taking his life ; but she found means to hide him from 
their search. 

The only daughter of Mrs. Martin, Letitia, married 
Captain Edmund Wade, of Virginia, who fell with his 



278 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

commander, General Montgomery, at the siege ot 
Quebec. At the time of the siege of Charleston by Sir 
Henry Clinton, the widow was residing with her mother 
at Ninety-Six. Her son Washington Wade was then five 
years old, and remembers many occurrences connected 
with the war.* The house was about one hundred miles 
in a direct line west of Charleston. He recollects walking 
in the piazza on a calm evening, with his grandmother. 
A light breeze blew from the east ; and the sound of 
heavy cannon was distinctly heard in that direction.! 
The sound of cannon heard at that time, and in that 
part of the State, they knew must come from the besieg- 
ed city. As report after report reached their ears, the 
agitation of Mrs. Martin increased. She knew not 
what evils might be announced ; she knew not but the 
sound might be the knell df her sons, three of whom 
were then in Charleston. Their wives were with her, 
and partook of the same heart-chilling fears. They 
stood still for a few minutes, each wrapped in her own 
painful and silent reflections, till the mother at length, 
lifting her hands and eyes towards heaven — exclaimed 
fervently : — " Thank God, they are the children op 
the Republic!" 

Of the seven patriot brothers, six were spared through 
all the dangers of partisan warfare in the region of 
the " dark and bloody ground." The eldest, William 

* Most of the particulars relating to this family were furnished by 
him to Dr. Johnson, of Charleston, who kindly communicated them 
to me, with additional ones obtained from other branches of the family 

fThis statement has been repeatedly confirmed by others in the 
neighbor! ood. 



ELIZABETH, GRACE, AND RACIIEL MARTIN. 279 

M. Martin, was a captain of artillery ; and after hav- 
ing served with distinction in the sieges of Savannah 
and Charleston, was killed at the siege of Augusta, 
just after he had obtained a favorable position for his 
cannon, by elevating it on one of the towers con- 
structed by General Pickens. It is related that not 
long after his death, a British officer passing to Fort 
Ninety-Six, then in possession of the English, rode out 
of his way to gratify his hatred to the whigs by carry- 
ing the fatal news to the mother of this gallant young 
man. He called at the house, and asked Mrs. Martin 
if she had not a son in the army at Augusta. She 
replied in the affirmative. " Then I saw his brains 
blown out on the field of battle," said the monster, who 
anticipated his triumph in the sight of a parent's agony. 
But the effect of the startling announcement was other 
than he expected. Terrible as was the shock, and 
aggravated by the ruthless cruelty with which her 
bereavement was made known, no woman's weakness 
was suffered to appear. After listening to the dreadful 
recital, the only reply made by this American dame 
was, "He could not have died in a nobler cause!" 
The evident chagrin of the officer as he turned and 
rode away, is still remembered in the family tradition. 

This eldest son married Grace Waring, of Dorchester, 
when she was but fourteen years of age. She was the 
daughter of Benjamin Waring, who afterwaixls became 
one of the earliest settlers of Columbia when established 
as the seat of government in the State. The principles 
of the Revolution had been taught her from childhood ; 



280 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

and her efforts to promote its advancement were joined 
with those of her husband's family. She was one of 
the two who risked their lives to seize upon the de- 
spatches, as above related. Her husband's untimely 
death left her with three young children — two sons and 
a daughter ; but she never married again. 

Her companion in that daring and successful enter- 
prise was the wife of Barkly Martin, another son. She 
was Rachel Clay, the daughter of Henry Clay, Jun., of 
Mecklenburg County, Virginia, and first cousin to 
Henry Clay, of Kentucky. She is said to be still liv- 
ing in Bedford County, Tennessee ; is about eighty-six 
years of age, and never had any children. Her sister 
married Matthew, another of the brothers, and removed 
to Tennessee. Their family was large and of high 
respectability. One of the sons is the Hon. Barkly 
Martin, late member of Congress from that State. His 
father lived to a great age, and died in Tennessee in 
October, 1847, about seventy-six years after his first 
battle-field. The decendants of the other brothers are 
numerous and respectable in the different southern 
States. 



A tribute is due to the fortitude of those who suffered 
when the war swept with violence over Georgia. After 
Colonel Campbell took possession of Savannah in 1778, 
the whole country was overrun with irregular marau- 
ders, wilder and more ruthless than the Cossacks of the 
Don. As many of the inhabitants as could retire from 



MRS. SPALDING. 281 

the storm did so, awaiting a happier time to renew the 
struggle. One of those who had sought refuge in 
Florida, was Mr. Spalding, whose establishments were 
on the river St. John's. He had the whole Indian 
trade from the Altamaha to the Apalachicola. His 
property, with his pursuits, was destroyed by the war ; 
yet his heart was ever with his countrymen, and the 
home he had prepared for his wife was the refuge of 
every American prisoner in Florida. The first Assem- 
bly that met in Savannah re-called him and restored 
his lands ; but could not give back his business, nor 
secure the debts due ; while his British creditors, with 
their demands for accumulated interest, pressed upon 
the remnant of his fortune. Under these adverse circum- 
stances, and distressed on account of the losses of her 
father and brothers, who had taken arms in the Ameri- 
can cause, Mrs. Spalding performed her arduous du- 
ties with a true woman's fidelity and tenderness. She 
followed her husband with her child, when flight be- 
came necessary ; and twice during the war traversed 
the two hundred miles between Savannah and St. 
John's River in an open boat, with only black servants 
on board, when the whole country was a desert, without 
a house to shelter her and her infant son. The first of 
these occasions was when she visited her father and 
brothers while prisoners in Savannah ; the second, 
when in 1782, she went to congratulate her brothers 
and uncle on their victory. This lady was the daugh- 
ter of Colonel William Mcintosh, and the niece of 



282 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION 

General Lachlan Mcintosh. Major Spalding, of Geor- 
gia, is her son. 

Mrs. Spalding's health was seriously impaired by the 
anxieties endured during the struggle, and many years 
afterwards it was deemed necessary for her to try the 
climate of Europe. In January, 1800, she, with her 
son and his wife, left Savannah in a British ship of 
twenty guns, with fifty men, built in all points to resem- 
ble a sloop of war, without the appearance of a cargo. 
When they had been out about fifteen days, the captain 
sent one morning at daylight, to request the presence 
of two of his gentlemen passengers on deck. A large 
ship, painted black and showing twelve guns on a side, 
was seen to windward, running across their course. 
She was obviously a French privateer. The Captain 
announced that there was no hope of out-sailing her, 
should their course be altered ; nor would there be hope 
in a conflict, as those ships usually carried one hundred 
and fifty men. Yet he judged that if no effort were 
made to shun the privateer, the appearance of his ship 
might deter from an attack. The gentlemen were of 
the same opinion. Mr. Spalding, heart-sick at thought 
of the perilous situation of his wife and mother, and 
unwilling to trust himself with an interview till the 
crisis was over, requested the captain to go below and 
make what preparation he could for their security. 
After a few minutes' absence the captain returned to 
describe a most touching scene. Mrs. Spalding had 
placed her daughter-in-law and the other inmates of 
the cabin for safety in the two state-rooms, filling the 



MRS. SPALDING. 283 

berths with the cots and bedding from the outer cabin. 
She had then taken her own station beside the scuttle, 
which led from the outer cabin to the magazine, with 
two buckets of water. Having noticed that the two 
cabin boys were heedless, she had determined herself 
to keep watch over the magazine. She did so till the 
danger was past. The captain took in his light sails, 
hoisted his boarding nettings, opened his ports, and stood 
on upon his course. The privateer waited till the ship 
was within a mile, then fired a gun to windward, and 
stood on her way. This ruse preserved the ship. The 
incident may serve to show the spirit of this matron, 
who also bore her high part in the perils of the Revo- 
lution. 



XXII 



DICEY LANGSTON. 

The portion of South Carolina near the frontier, 
watered by the Pacolet, the Tyger, and the Ennoree, 
comprising Spartanburg and Union Districts, witnessed 
many deeds of violence and blood, and many bold 
achievements of the hardy partisans. It could also 
boast its full complement of women whose aid in vari- 
ous ways was of essential service to the patriots. So 
prevalent was loyalism in the darkest of those days, so 
bitter was the animosity felt towards the whigs, and so 
eager the determination to root them from the soil, that 
the very recklessness of hate gave frequent opportu- 
nities for the betrayal of the plans of their enemies. 
Often were the boastings of those who plotted some 
midnight surprise, or some enterprise that promised rare 
pillage — uttered in the hearing of weak and despised 
women — unexpectedly turned into wonder at the secret 
agency that had disconcerted them, or execrations upon 
their own folly. The tradition of the country teems 
with accounts of female enterprise in this kind of ser- 
vice/very few instances of which were recorded in the 
military journals. 



DICEY LANGSTON. 285 

The patriots were frequently indebted for important 
information to one young girl, fifteen or sixteen years 
old at the commencement of the war. This was Dicey, 
the daughter of Solomon Langston of Laurens District. 
He was in principle a stout liberty man, but incapa- 
citated by age and infirmities from taking any active 
part in the contest. His son was a devoted patriot, 
and was ever found in the field where his services were 
most needed. He had his home in the neighborhood, 
and could easily receive secret intelligence from his 
sister, who was always on the alert. Living surrounded 
by loyalists, some of whom were her own relatives, Miss 
Langston found it easy to make herself acquainted with 
their movements and plans, and failed not to avail her- 
self of every opportunity to do so, and immediately to 
communicate what she learned to the whigs on the 
other side of the Ennoree River. At length suspicion 
of the active aid she rendered was excited among the 
tory neighbors. Mr. Langston was informed that he 
would be held responsible thenceforward, with his pro- 
perty, for the conduct of his daughter. The young 
girl was reproved severely, and commanded to desist 
from her patriotic treachery. For a time she obeyed 
the parental injunction ; but having heard by accident 
that a company of loyalists, who on account of their 
ruthless cruelty had been commonly called the " Bloody 
Scout," intent on their work of death, were about to 
visit the "Elder settlement" where her brother and 
some friends were living, she determined at all hazards 
to warn them of the intended expedition. She had 



286 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

none in whom to confide ; but was obliged to leave her 
home alone, by stealth, and at the dead hour of 
night. Many miles were to be traversed, and the road 
lay through woods, and crossed marshes and creeks, 
where the conveniences of bridges and foot-logs were 
wanting. She Walked rapidly on, heedless of slight 
difficulties; but her heart almost failed her when she 
came to the banks of the Tyger — a deep and rapid 
stream, which there was no possibility of crossing ex- 
cept by wading through the ford. This she knew to be 
deep at ordinary times, and it had doubtless been ren- 
dered more dangerous by the rains that had lately 
fallen. But the thought of personal danger weighed 
not with her, in comparison to the duty she owed her 
friends and country. Her momentary hesitation was 
but the shrinking of nature from peril encountered in 
darkness and alone, when the imagination conjures up 
a thousand appalling ideas, each more startling than the 
worst reality. Her strong heart battled againsi these, 
and she resolved to accomplish her purpose, or perish 
in the attempt. She entered the water; but when in 
the middle of the ford, became bewildered, and knew 
not which direction to take. The hoarse rush of the 
waters, which were up to her neck — the blackness of 
the night — the utter solitude around her — the uncer- 
tainty lest the next step should ingulph her past help, 
confused her ; and losing in a degree her self-possession, 
she wandered for some time in the channel without 
knowing whither to turn her steps. But the energy of a 
resolute will, under the care of Providence, sustained 



DICEY LANGSTON. 287 

her. Having with difficulty reached the other side, she 
lost no time in hastening to her brother, informed him 
and his friends of the preparations made to surprise 
and destroy them, and urged him to send his men in- 
stantly in different directions to arouse and warn the 
neighborhood. The soldiers had just returned from a 
fatiguing excursion, and complained that they were 
faint from want of food. The noble girl, not satisfied 
with what she had done at such risk to herself, was 
ready to help them still further by providing refresh 
ment immediately. Though wearied, wet, and shiver- 
ing with cold, she at once set about her preparations. 
A few boards were taken from the roof of the house, 
a fire was kindled with them, and in a few minutes a 
hoe-cake, partly baked, was broken into pieces, and 
thrust into the shot pouches of the men. Thus pro- 
visioned, the little company hastened to give the alarm 
to their neighbors, and did so in time for all to make 
their escape. The next day, when the "scout" visited 
the place, they found no living enemy on whom to 
wreak their vengeance. 

At a later period of the war, the father of Miss 
Langston incurred the displeasure of the loyalists in 
consequence of the active services of his sons in their 
country's cause. They were known to have imbibed 
their principles from him ; and he was marked out as 
an object of summary vengeance. A party came to 
his house with the desperate design of putting to death 
all the men of the family. The sons were absent ; but 
the feeble old man, selected by their relentless hate as a 



288 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

victim, was in their power. He could not escape or 
resist ; and he scorned to implore their mercy. One of 
the company drew a pistol, and deliberately levelled it 
at the breast of Lansgton. Suddenly a wild shriek was 
heard ; and his young daughter sprang between her 
aged parent and the fatal weapon. The brutal soldier 
roughly ordered her to get out of the way, or the con- 
tents of the pistol would be instantly lodged in her own 
heart. She heeded not the threat, which was but too 
likely to be fulfilled the next moment. Clasping her 
arms tightly round the old man's neck, she declared 
that her own body should first receive the ball aimed at 
his heart ! There are few human beings, even of the 
most depraved, entirely insensible to all noble and gen- 
erous impulses. On this occasion the conduct of the 
daughter, so fearless, so determined to shield her father's 
life by the sacrifice of her own, touched the heart even 
of a member of the " Bloody Scout." Langston was 
spared; and the party left the house filled with admiration 
at the filial affection and devotion they had witnessed. 

At another time the heroic maiden showed herself as 
ready to prevent wrong to an enemy as to her friends. 
Her father's house was visited by a company of whigs, 
who stopped to get some refreshment, and to feed their 
wearied horses. In the course of conversation one of 
them mentioned that they were going to visit a tory 
neighbor, for the purpose of seizing his horses. The 
man whose possessions were thus to be appropriated 
had been in general a peaceable citizen; and Mr. 
Langston determined to inform him of the dancer in 



DICEY LANGSTON. 289 

which his horses stood of having their ownership 
changed. Entering cordially into her father's design, 
Miss Langston set off immediately to carry the infor- 
mation. She gave it in the best faith ; but just before 
she started on her return home, she discovered that the 
neighbor whom she had warned was not only taking 
precautions to save his property, but was about to send 
for the captain of a tory band not far distant, so that 
the " liberty men" might be captured when intent on 
their expedition, before they should be aware of their 
danger. It was now the generous girl's duty to per- 
form a like friendly act towards the whigs. She lost 
no time in conveying the intelligence, and thus saved 
an enemy's property, and the lives of her friends. 

Her disregard of personal danger, where service 
could be rendered, was remarkable. One day, return- 
ing from a whig neighborhood in Spartanburg District, 
she was met by a company of loyalists, who ordered 
her to give them some intelligence they desired respect- 
ing those she had just left. She refused ; whereupon 
the captain of the band held a pistol to her breast, and 
ordered her instantly to make the disclosures, or she 
should "die in her tracks." Miss Langston only replied, 
with the cool intrepidity of a veteran soldier: "Shoot 
me if you dare! I will not tell you," at the same time 
opening a long handkerchief which covered her neck 
and bosom, as if offering a place to receive the contents 
of the weapon. Incensed by her defiance, the officer 
was about to fire, when another threw up his hand, and 

saved the courageous girl's life. 
13 



290 WOMEN 3F THE REVOLUTION. 

On one occasion, when her father's house was visited 
on a plundering expedition by the noted tory Captain 
Gray with his riflemen, and they had collected and 
divided every thing they thought could be of use, they 
were at some loss what to do with a large pewter basin. 
At length the captain determined on taking that also, 
jeeringly remarking, " it will do to run into bullets to 
kill the rebels." " Pewter bullets, sir," answered Miss 
Langston, " will not kill a whig." " Why not ?" inquired 
Captain Gray. "It is said, sir," replied she, "that a 
witch can be shot only with a silver bullet ; and I am 
sure the whigs are more under the protection of Provi- 
dence." At another time when a company of the 
enemy came to the house they found the door secured. 
To their demand for admission and threats of breaking 
down the door, Miss Langston answered by sternly 
bidding them begone. Her resolute language induced 
the company to "hold a parley;" and the result was, 
that they departed without further attempt to obtain an 
entrance. 

One more anecdote is given to illustrate her spirit 
and fearlessness. Her brother James had left a rifle in 
her care, which she was to keep hid till he sent for it. 
He did so, by a company of " liberty men," who were 
to return by his father's dwelling. On arriving at the 
house, one of them asked the young girl for the gun. 
She went immediately, and brought it; but as she came 
towards the soldiers, the thought struck her that she 
had neglected to ask for the countersign agreed upon 
between her brother and herself. Advancing more 



MRS. DILLARD. 291 

cautiously — she observed to them that their looks were 
suspicious ; that for aught she knew they might be a 
set of tories ; and demanded the countersign. One of 
the company answered that it was too late to make 
conditions; the gun was in their possession, and its 
holder, too. " Do you think so," cried she, cocking it, 
and presenting the muzzle at the speaker. " If the gun 
is in your possession, take charge of her!" Her look 
and attitude of defiance showed her in earnest; the 
countersign was quickly given ; and the men, laughing 
heartily, pronounced her worthy of being the sister of 
James Langston. 

After the war was ended, Miss Langston married 
Thomas Springfield, of Greenville, South Carolina. 
She died in Greenville District, a few years since. Of 
her numerous descendants then living, thirty-two were 
sons and grandsons capable of bearing arms, and 
ready at any time to do so in the maintenance of that 
liberty which was so dear to the youthful heart of their 
ancestor.* 



The recollection of the courage and patriotism of 
Mrs. Dillard is associated with the details of a battle 
of considerable importance, which took place in Spar- 
tanburg District, at the Green Spring, near Berwick's 
iron works. The Americans here gained great honor. 

* The preceding anecdotes were furnished by Hon B. F. Perry, of 
Greenville, South Carolina, who received them from one of Mrs. 
Springfield's family. 



292 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Colonel Clarke, of the Georgia volunteers, joined with 
Captains McCall, Liddle, and Hammond, in all about 
one hundred and ninety-eight men — having received 
intelligence that a body of tory militia, stated to be from 
two to five hundred, commanded by Colonel Ferguson, 
Were recruiting for ihe horse service — determined to 
attempt to rout them.* They marched accordingly ; 
and hearing that a scouting party was in advance of 
Ferguson's station, prepared to give them battle. 
Colonel Clarke, with his forces, encamped for the night 
at Green Spring. 

On that day the Americans had stopped for refresh- 
ment at the house of Captain Dillard, who was with 
their party as a volunteer. They had been entertained 
by his wife with milk and potatoes — the simple fare which 
those hardy soldiers often found it difficult to obtain. 
The same evening Ferguson and Dunlap, with a party 
of tories, arrived at the house. They inquired of Mrs. 
Dillard whether Clarke and his men had not been there ; 
what time they had departed ; and what were their 
numbers ? She answered that they had been at the 
house ; that she could not guess their numbers ; and 
that they had been gone a long time. The officers 
then ordered her to prepare supper for them with all 
possible despatch. They took possession of the house, 
and took some bacon to be given to their men. Mrs. 
Dillard set about the preparations for supper. In 
going backwards and forwards from the kitchen, she 
ovei'heard much of their conversation. It will be re- 
* Mills' Statistics of South Carolina, p. 73S 



MRS. DTLLARD. 293 

membeied that the kitchens at the South are usually 
separate from the dwelling-houses. The doors and 
windows of houses in the country being often slightly 
constructed, it is also likely that the loose partitions 
afforded facilities for hearing what might be said within. 
Besides, the officers probably apprehended no danger 
from disclosing their plans in the presence of a lonely 
woman. 

She ascertained that they had determined to surprise 
Clarke and his party ; and were to pursue him as soon 
as they had taken their meal. She also heard one of 
the officers tell Ferguson he had just received the infor- 
mation that the rebels, with Clarke, were to encamp 
that night at the Great Spring. It was at once resolved 
to surprise and attack them before day. The feelings 
may be imagined with which Mrs. Dillard heard this 
resolution announced. She hurried the supper, and as 
soon as it was placed upon the table, and the officers 
had sat down, slipped out by a back way. Late and 
dark as it was, her determination was to go herself and 
apprize Clarke of his danger, in the hope of being in 
time for him to make a safe retreat ; for she believed 
that the enemy were too numerous to justify a battle. 

She went to the stable, bridled a young horse, and 
without saddle, mounted and rode with all possible 
speed to the place described. It was about half an hour 
before day when she came in full gallop to one of the 
videttes, by whom she was immediately conducted to 
Colonel Clarke. She called to the colonel, breathless 
with eagerness and haste, " Be in readiness either to 



294 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

fight or run ; the enemy will be upon you immediately, 
and they are strong !" 

In an instant every man was up, and no moments 
were lost in preparing for action. The intelligence 
came just in time to put the whigs in readiness. Fer- 
guson had detached Dunlap with two hundred picked 
mounted men, to engage Clarke and keep him employed 
till his arrival. These rushed in full charge into the 
American camp ; but the surprise was on their part. 
They were met hand to hand, with a firmness they had 
not anticipated. Their confusion was increased by the 
darkness, which rendered it hard to distinguish friend 
from foe. The battle was warm for fifteen or twenty 
minutes, when the tories gave way. They were pur- 
sued nearly a mile, but not overtaken. Ferguson came 
" too late for the frolic ;" the business being ended. 
Clarke and his little band then returned to North Caro- 
lina for rest and refreshment ; for the whole of this 
enterprise was performed without one regular meal, and 
without regular food for their horses. 



Mrs. Angelica Nott, widow of the late Judge Nott, 
of South Corolina, remembers some illustrative incidents 
which occurred in the section where she resided with 
her aunt, Mrs. Potter, near the Grindal Shoal, a little 
south of Pacolet River. The whig population in this 
portion of the State, were exposed during part of 1780 
and 1781 to incredible hardships. The breezes of 
fortune which had fanned into life the expiring embers 



MRS. POTTER AND MRS. BECKHAM. 295 

of opposition to English tyranny, had been so variable 
that the wavering hopes of the people were often tremb- 
ling on the verge of extinction. The reverses of the 
British arms had exasperated the loyalists, and embitter- 
ed the enmity felt towards the stubborn people who 
refused to be conquered. Such was the state of feeling 
when the destiny of the South was committed to the 
hands of a soldier of consummate genius, in whom the 
trust of all was implicitly placed. 

When Tarleton was on his march against Morgan, 
just before their encounter at the Cowpens, a party of 
loyalists came to the place where Mrs. Potter lived, 
and committed some depredations. They burned the 
straw covering from a rude hut, in which the family 
lodged, while a relative ill of the small-pox occupied 
the house. Mrs. Potter and her children had built 
this lodge of rails, for their temporary accommodation. 
The soldiers attempted to take off her wedding-ring, 
which, as it had been worn for years, became imbedded 
under the skin, in the effort to force it from her 
finger. They swore it should be cut off, but finally 
desisted from the attempt. On the same march, Tarle- 
ton encamped at the house of John Beckham, whose 
wife was the sister of Colonel Henderson of the conti- 
nental army. Mrs. Beckham saw for the first time 
this renowned officer while standing in her yard, and 
ordering his men to catch her poultry for supper. She 
spoke civilly to him, and hastened to prepare supper for 
him and his suite, as if they had been honored guests. 
When about to leave n the morning, he ordered the 



V 

*296 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

house to be burnt, after being given up to pillage, 
but on her remonstrance, recalled the order. All her 
bedding was taken, except one quilt, which soon shared 
the same fate. At another time Mrs. Beckham went to 
Granby, eighty miles distant, for a bushel of salt, which 
she brought home on the saddle under her. The guinea 
appropriated for the purchase, was concealed in the 
hair braided on the top of her head. 

Mrs. Potter was visited by the famous tory, Colonel 
Cunningham, commonly called " Bloody Bill Cunning- 
ham," on one occasion, with a party of two hundred 
and fifty men. They arrived after dark ; and as green 
corn happened to be in season, encamped by one 
of her fields, fed their horses with the corn, built 
fires with the rails, and roasted the ears for themselves. 
At that time, the family lived chiefly on roasted corn, 
without bread, meat, or salt. Hickory ashes were used, 
with a small quantity of salt, for preserving beef when 
it could be had. Leather shoes were replaced by 
woolen rags sewed round the feet; and of beds or 
bedding none were left. The beds were generally ripped 
open by the depredators, the feathers scattered, and the 
ticking used for tent-cloths. The looms were robbed 
of cloth found in them ; and hence the women of the 
country resorted to various expedients to manufacture 
clothing, and preserve it for their own use and that of 
their friends. A family residing on the Pacolet, built a 
loom between four trees in the forest, and wove in fair 
weather, covering the loom and web with cow-hides 
when it rained. 



XXIII. 



ELIZABETH STEELE. 

The long, arduous, and eventful retreat of General 
Greene through the Carolinas, after the battle of the 
Cowpens, that retreat on whose issue hung the fate of 
the South — with the eager pursuit of Corn wallis, who well 
knew that the destruction of that army would secure 
his conquests — is a twice-told tale to every reader. 
The line of march lay through Salisbury, North Caro- 
lina; and while the British commander was crossing 
the Catawba, Greene was approaching this village. 
With the American army were conveyed the prisoners 
taken by Morgan in the late bloody and brilliant action, 
the intention being to convey them to Virginia. Several 
of these were sick and wounded, and among them were 
some British officers, unable, from loss of strength, to 
proceed further on the route. 

General Greene, aware of the objects of Cornwall is, 
knew his design, by a hurried march to the ford, to cross 
the Catawba before opposition could be made ; and 
had stationed a body of militia there to dispute the 
passage. Most anxiously did the General await their 
arrival, before he pursued his route. The day gradually 
13* 



298 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

wore away, and still no signs appeared of the militia ; 
and it was not till after midnight that the news reached 
him of their defeat and dispersion by the British troops, 
and the death of General Davidson, who had com- 
manded them. His aids having been despatched to 
different parts of the retreating army, he rode on 
with a heavy heart to Salisbury. It had been raining 
during the day, and his soaked and soiled garments and 
appearance of exhaustion as he wearily dismounted 
from his jaded horse at the door of the principal hotel, 
showed that he had suffered much from exposure to the 
storm, sleepless fatigue, and harassing anxiety of mind. 
Dr. Reed, who had charge of the sick and wounded 
prisoners, while he waited for the General's arrival was 
engaged in writing the paroles with which it was neces- 
sary to furnish such officers as could not go on. From 
his apartment overlooking the main street, he saw his 
friend, unaccompanied by his aids, ride up and alight; 
and hastened to l'eceive him as he entered the house. 
Seeing him without a companion, and startled by his 
dispirited looks — the doctor could not refrain from 
noticing them with anxious inquiries ; to which the 
wearied soldier replied : " Yes — fatigued — hungry — alone, 
and penniless !" 

The melancholy reply was heard by one determined 
to prove, by the generous assistance proffered in a time 
of need, that no reverse could dim the pure flame of 
disinterested patriotism. General Greene had hardly 
taken his seat at the well-spread table, when Mrs. Steele, 
the landlady of the hotel, entei ed the room, and care- 



ELIZABETH STEELE. 299 

fully closed the door behind her. Approaching her dis- 
tinguished guest, she reminded him of the despondent 
words he had uttered in her hearing, implying, as she 
thought, a distrust of the devotion of his friends, 
through every calamity, to the cause. Money, too, 
she declared he should have ; and drew from under 
her apron two small bags full of specie, probably the 
earnings of years. "Take these," said she, " for you 
will want them, and I can do without them." 

Words of kindness and encouragement accompanied 
this offering of a benevolent heart, which General 
Greene accepted with thankfulness. " Never," says 
his biographer, " did relief come at a more propitious 
moment ; nor would it be straining conjecture to sup- 
pose that he resumed his journey with his spirits cheered 
and lightened by this touching proof of woman's devo- 
tion to the cause of her country."* 

General Greene did not remain long in Salisbury ; 
but before his departure from the house of Mrs. Steele, 
he left a memorial of his visit. He took from the wall 
of one of the apartments a portrait of George III., 
which had come from England as a present from a person 
at court to one of Mrs. Steele's connections attached to 
an embassy, wrote with chalk on the back, " O, George, 
hide thy face and mourn ;" and replaced it with the face 
to the wall. The picture, with the writing unefFaced, 
is still in possession of a granddaughter of Mrs. Steele, 
a daughter of Dr. McCorkle, and may be seen in Char- 
lotte. 

* Greene's Life of Nathanael Greene. See also Foote's Sketchet 
of North Carolina, p 355. 



300 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Elizabeth Steele was distinguished not only for her 
attachment to the American cause during the war, but 
for the piety that shone brightly in her useful life. 
Among her papers w r as found after her death a written 
dedication of herself to her Creator, and a prayer for 
support in the practice of Christian duty ; with a letter, 
left as a legacy to her children, enjoining it upon them 
to make religion the great work of life. She was a 
tender mother, and beloved for her constant exercise of 
the virtues of kindness and charity. She was twice 
married, and died in Salisbury, in 1791. Her son, the 
Hon. John Steele, conspicuous in the councils of the 
State and Nation, was one whose public services offer 
materials for an interesting biography. A collection of 
his correspondence has lately been added to the trea- 
sures of the Historical Society of the University of 
.North Carolina; and it is to be hoped that under its 
auspices, justice will be done to his memory at no dis- 
tant period. Margaret, Mrs. Steele's daughter, was the 
wife of the Rev. Samuel E. McCorkle. 



Jt was in the same pursuit of Greene and Morgan 
by Cornwallis. that the British destroyed the property 
of the Widow Brevard, in Centre congregation. " She 
has seven sons in the rebel army," was the reason 
given by the officer for permitting her house to be 
burned and her farm plundered. One of her sons, 
Captain Alexander Brevard, took part in nine battles , 
and the youngest was at seventeen first lieutenant of a 



MRS. BREVARD. 301 

company oi horse. Ephraim Brevard, another son, 
having graduated at Princeton College, and completed 
a course of medical studies, fixed his residence at 
Charlotte. Mr. Foote says, "His talents, patriotism, 
and education, united with his prudence and practical 
sense, marked him as a leader in the councils that pre- 
ceded the convention held in Queen's Museum ; and 
on the day of meeting designated him as secretary and 
draughtsman of that singular and unrivalled declara- 
tion, which alone is a passport to the memory of pos- 
terity through all time.'"' 

Tt will be borne in mind that it was in Charlotte, the 
county town of Mecklenburg County, that the bold idea 
of National Independence was first proclaimed to the 
world. On the 19th May, 1775, an immense concourse 
of people was assembled in this frontier settlement — all 
agitated with the excitement which had plunged the 
whole land into commotion ; on that day came the first 
intelligence of the commencement of hostilities at Lex- 
ington ; and when the convention and the people were 
addressed, the universal cry was, " Let us be indepen- 
dent! Let us declare our independence, and defend it 
with our lives and fortunes !" The resolutions drawn 
up by Dr. Brevard were discussed ; and by their unani- 
mous adoption, the day following, by the convention 
and the approving multitude, the citizens of Mecklen- 
burg County declared themselves a free and indepen- 
dent people. Due honor is awarded to him who took 
so active a part in that memorable transaction ; but 
where is the tribute that should be paid to the widowed 



302 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

mother who sowed the seeds which on that day 3 r ielded 
fruit — who implanted in her son's mind those sterling 
principles, the guidance of which rendered his life one 
of eminent usefulness ? 

When the southern States became the arena of war, 
Dr. Brevard entered the army as surgeon, and was 
taken prisoner at the surrender of Charleston. In that 
city he was seized with a fatal disease, to which he fell 
a victim after being set at liberty, and permitted to 
place himself under the care of friends. 

The deplorable sufferings of the unfortunate prison- 
ers in Charleston, moved the sympathy of the inhabi- 
tants of Western Carolina ; for news came that many 
were perishing in captivity of want and disease. The 
men could not go thither to visit their friends and rela- 
tives, without insuring their own destruction ; but the 
women gathered clothing, medicines, and provisions, 
and travelled long journeys, encountering danger as well 
as hardship, to minister in person to those who so sorely 
needed their succor. Much relief was brought to the 
sufferers by these visits of mercy; although the lives 
preserved were sometimes saved at the sacrifice of the 
noble benefactors. The mother of Andrew Jackson, 
returning to the Waxhaw, after a journey to Charleston — 
to carry clothing and other necessaries to some friends 
on board the prison ship, was seized with the prison- 
fever, and died in a tent, in the midst of the wide, sandy 
wilderness of pines. Her lonely grave by the road- 
side, were the spot known, would speak mournfully of 
woman's self-immolating heroism. Mrs. Jackson, with 



MRS. JACKSON. 303 

her children, had quitted their home on the Waxhaw, 
where she had buried her husband, after the rout 
and slaughter of Buford's regiment b}* the forces of 
Tarleton, when the women and children fled from 
the ravages of the merciless enemy. They had found 
a place of refuge in Sugar Creek congregation, where 
they remained during part of the summer. Part of the 
the foundations of the log meeting-house where the 
congregation met for worship may still be seen. 

Other widowed mothers were there in North Caro- 
lina, who trained their sons to become zealous patriots 
and efficent statesmen. The names of Mrs. Flinn, 
Mrs. Sharpe, Mrs. Graham, and Mrs. Hunter, are 
worthy of remembrance. The great principles pro- 
claimed at the Mecklenburg Convention, were acted 
out in the noblest efforts of patriotism by their sons. 

Mr. Caruthers, the biographer of the Rev. David Cald- 
well, states, that while all the active men in his congre- 
gations were engaged with the army at the battle of Guil- 
ford Court-house, there were two collections of females, 
one in Buffalo, and the other in Alamance, engaged in 
earnest prayer for their families and their country ; and 
that many others sought the divine aid in solitary places. 
One pious woman sent her son frequently during the 
afternoon, to the summit of a little hill near which she 
spent much time in prayer, to listen and bring her word 
which way the firing came — from the southward or the 
northward. When he returned and said it was going 
northward, " Then," exclaimed she, "all is lost! Greene 
is defeated." But all was not lost ; the God who hears 
prayer remembered his people. , 



XXIV. 



MART SLOCUMB. 

The first expedition into North Carolina projected 
by Lord Cornwallis, was baffled by the fall of Colonel 
Ferguson at King's Mountain. The disaster at the 
Cowpens forbade perseverance in the second attempt, 
and was followed by the memorable retreat of Greene. 
The battle of Guilford took place in March, 1781 ; and 
towards the end of April, while Lord Rawdon en- 
countered Greene at Hobkirk's Hill, Cornwallis set out 
on his march from Wilmington, bent on his avowed 
purpose of achieving the conquest of Virginia. On his 
march towards Halifax, he encamped for several days 
on the river Neuse, in what is now called Wayne 
County, North Carolina. His head-quarters were at 
►Springbank, while Colonel Tarleton, with his renowned 
legion, encamped on the plantation of Lieutenant 
►Slocumb. This consisted of level and extensive fields, 
which at that season presented a most inviting view of 
fresh verdure from the mansion-house. Lord Corn- 
wallis himself gave it the name of " Pleasant Green," 
which it ever afterwards retained. The owner of this 
fine estate held a subaltern's commission in the State 



MARY SLOCUMB. 305 

line under Colonel Washington, and was in command 
of a troop of light horse, raised in his own neighbor- 
hood, whose general duty it was to act as Rangers, 
scouring the country for many miles around, watching 
the movements of the enemy, and punishing the loyal- 
ists when detected in their vocation of pillage and mur- 
der. These excursions had been frequent for two or 
three years, and were often of several weeks' duration. 
At the present time Slocumb had returned to the vicin- 
ity, and had been sent with twelve or fifteen recruits to 
act as scouts in the neighborhood of the British Gen- 
eral. The morning of the day on which Tarleton took 
possession of his plantation, he was near Springbank, 
and reconnoitered the encampment of Cornwallis, 
which he supposed to be his whole force. He then, 
with his party, pursued his way slowly along the south 
bank of the Neuse, in the direction of his own house, 
little dreaming that his beautiful and peaceful home, 
where, some time before, he had left his wife and child, 
was then in the possession of the terrible Tarleton. 

During these frequent excursions of the Rangers, 
and the necessary absence of her husband, the superin- 
tendence of the plantation had always devolved upon 
Mrs. Slocumb. She depended for protection upon her 
slaves, whose fidelity she had proved, and upon her 
own fearless and intrepid spirit. The scene of the 
occupation of her house, and Tarleton's residence with 
her, remained through life indelibly impressed on her 
memory, and were described by her to one who en- 
joyed the honor of her intimate friendship. I am per- 



30G WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION 

mitted to give his account, copied almost verbatim from 
notes taken at the time the occurrences were related by 
Mrs. Slocumb. 

It was about ten o'clock on a beautiful spring morn- 
ing, that a splendidly-dressed officer, accompanied by 
two aids, and followed at a short distance by a guard 
of some twenty troopers, dashed up to the piazza in 
front of the ancient-looking mansion. Mrs. Slocumb 
was sitting there, with her child and a near relative, a 
young lady, who afterwards became the wife of Major 
Williams. A few house servants were also on the 
piazza 

The officer raised his cap, and bowing to his horse's 
neck, addressed the lady, with the question — 

" Have 1 the pleasure of seeing the mistress of this 
house and plantation!" 

"It belongs to my husband." 

"Is he at home?" "He is not." "Is he a rebel?" 
"No sir. He is in the army of his country, and 
fighting against our invaders ; therefore not a rebel." 
It is not a little singular, that although the people of that 
day gloried in their rebellion, they always took offence 
at being called rebels. 

"I fear, madam," said the officer, "we differ in opinion." 
A friend to his country will be the friend of the king, 
our master." 

" Slaves only acknowledge a master in this country," 
replied the lady. 

A deep flush crossed the florid cheeks of Tarleton, 
fot he was the speaker; and turning to one of his aids. 



MARY SLOCUMB. 307 

he ordered him to pitch the tents and form the encamp- 
ment in the orchard and field on their right. To the 
other aid his orders were to detach a quarter guard and 
station piquets on each road. Then bowing very low, 
he added : " Madam, the service of his Majesty requires 
the temporary occupation of your property ; and if it 
would not be too great an inconvenience, I will take up 
my quarters in your house." 

The tone admitted no controversy. Mrs. Slocumb 
answered: "My family consists of only myself, my 
sister and child, and a few negroes. We are your 
prisoners." 

From the piazza where he seated himself, Tarleton 
commanded a view of the ground on which his troops 
were arranging their camp. The mansion fronted the 
east, and an avenue one hundred and fifty feet wide, and 
about half a mile in length, stretched to the eastern 
side of the plantation, where was a highway, with open 
grounds beyond it, partly dry meadow and partly sand 
barren. This avenue was lined on the south side by a 
high fence, and a thick hedge-row of forest trees. 
These are now removed, and replaced by the Pride of 
India and other ornamental trees. On the north side 
extended the common rail-fence seven or ei"ht feet 
high, such as is usually seen on plantations in the low 
country. The encampment of the British troops being 
on that part of the plantation lying south of the avenue, 
t was completely screened by the fences and hedge-row 
from the view of any one approach ng from down the 
country. 



308 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

While the men were busied, different officers came uj. 
at intervals, making their reports and receiving orders 
Among others, a tory captain, whom Mrs. Slocumb im- 
mediately recognized — for before joining the royal army, 
he had lived fifteen or twenty miles below — received 
orders in her hearing to take his .troop and scour the 
country for two or three miles round. 

In an hour every thing was quiet, and the plantation 
presented the romantic spectacle of a regular encamp- 
ment of some ten or eleven hundred of the choicest 
cavalry of the British monarch. 

Mrs. Slocumb now addressed herself to the duty of 
preparing for her uninvited guests. The dinner set 
before the king's officers was, in her own words to her 
friend, " as a good dinner as you have now before you, 
and of much the same materials." A description of 
what then constituted a good dinner in that region may 
not be inappropriate. " The first dish, was, of course, 
the boiled ham, flanked with the plate of greens. 
Opposite was the turkey, supported by the laughing 
baked sweet potatoes ; a plate of boiled beef, another of 
sausages, and a third with a pair of baked fowls, formed 
a line across the centre of the table ; half a dozen dishes 
of different pickles, stewed fruit, and other condiments 
filled up the interstices of the board." The dessert, too, 
was abundant and various. Such a dinner, it may 
well be supposed, met the particular approbation of the 
royal officers, especially as the fashion of that day 
introduced stimulating drinks to the table, and the peach 
brandy prepared under Lieutenant Slocumb's own 



MARY SLOCUMB. 309 

supervision, was of the most excellent sort. It received 
the unqualified praise of the party; and its merits were 
freely discussed. A Scotch officer, praising it by the 
name of whiskey, protested that he had never drunk as 
good out of Scotland. An officer speaking with a slight 
brogue, insisted it was not whiskey, and that no Scotcn 
drink ever equalled it. " To my mind," said he, " it 
tastes as yonder orchard smells." 

" Allow me, madam," said Colonel Tarleton, to inquire 
where the spirits we are drinking is procured." 

" From the orchard where your tents stand," answered 
Mrs. Slocumb. 

"Colonel," said the Irish captain, "when we conquer 
this country, is it not to be divided out among us ?" 

" The officers of this army," replied the Colonel, " will 
undoubtedly receive large possessions of the conquered 
American provinces." 

Mrs. Slocumb here interposed. " Allow me to 
observe and prophesy," said she, " the only land in these 
United States which will ever remain in possession of 
a British officer, will measure but six feet by two." 

"Excuse me, madam," remarked Tarleton. "For 
your sake I regret to say — this beautiful plantation will 
be the ducal seat of some of us." 

" Don't trouble yourself about me," retorted the spirited 
lady. "My husband is not a man who would allow a 
duke, or even a king, to have a quiet seat upon his 
ground." 

At this point the conversation was interrupted by 
rapid volleys of fire-arms, appearing to proceed froir the 



310 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

wood a short distance to the eastward. One of the 
aids pronounced it some straggling scout, running from 
the picket-guard; but the experience of Colonel Tarle- 
ton could not be easily deceived. 

" There are rifles and muskets," said he, " as well as 
pistols ; and too many to pass unnoticed. Order boots 
and saddles, and you — Captain, take your troop in the 
direction of the firing." 

The officer rushed out to execute his orders, while 
the Colonel walked into the piazza, whither he was 
immediately followed by the anxious ladies. Mrs. 
Slocumb's agitation and alarm may be imagined ; for 
she guessed but too well the cause of the interruption. 
On the first arrival of the officers she had been impor- 
tuned, even with harsh threats — not, however, by Tarle- 
ton — to tell where her husband, when absent on duty, 
was likely to be found ; but after her repeated and 
peremptory refusals, had escaped further molestation on 
the subject. She feared now that he had -returned 
unexpectedly, and might fall into the enemy's hands 
before he was aware of their presence. 

Her sole hope was in a precaution she had adopted 
soon after the coming of her unwelcome guests. Hav- 
ing heard Tarleton give the order to the tory captain 
as before-mentioned, to patrol the country, she imme- 
diately sent for an old negro, and gave him directions 
to take a bag of corn to the mill about four miles dis- 
tant, on the road she knew her husband must travel if 
he returned that day. " Big George" was instructed to 
warn his master of the danger of approaching his 



MARY 6L0CUMB. 311 

home. With the indolence and curiosity natural to his 
race, however, the old fellow remained loitering about 
the premises, and was at this time lurking under the 
nedge-row, admiring the red coats, dashing plumes, and 
shining helmets of the British troopers. 

The Colonel and the ladies continued on the look-out 
from the piazza. " May I be allowed, madam," at 
length said Tarleton, " without offence, to inquire if 
any part of Washington's army is in this neighbor 
hood. 

" I presume it is known to you," replied Mrs. 
Slocumb, "that the Marquis and Greene are in this 
State. And you would not of course," she added, after 
a slight pause, " be surprised at a call from Lee, or 
your old friend Colonel Washington, who, although a 
perfect gentleman, it is said shook your hand (pointing 
to the scar left by Washington's sabre) very rudely, 
when you last met."* 

This spirited answer inspired Tarleton with appre- 
hensions that the skirmish in the woods was only the 
prelude to a concerted attack on his camp. His only 
reply was a loud order to form the troops on the right ; 
and springing on his charger, he dashed down the 
avenue a few hundred feet, to a breach in the hedge- 

* As I cannot distrust the authority on which I have received this 
anecdote, it proves that on more than one occasion the British colonel 
was made to feel the shaft of female wit, in allusion to the unfortunate 
battle of the Cowpens. It is said that in a close encounter between 
Washington and Tarleton during that action, the latter was wounded 
by a sabre cut on the hand. Colonel Washington, as is well known, 
figured in some of the skirmishes in North Carolina 



312 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

row, leaped the fence, and in a moment was at the head 
of his regiment, which was already in line. 

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Slocumb, with John Howell, 
a private in his band, Henry Williams, and the brother 
of Mrs. Slocumb, Charles Hooks, a boy of about thir- 
teen years of age, was leading a hot pursuit of the tory 
captain who had been sent to reconnoitre the country, 
and some of his routed troop. These were first dis- 
cerned in the open grounds east and northeast of the 
plantation, closely pursued by a body of American 
mounted militia ; while a running fight was kept up 
with different weapons, in which four or five broad 
swords gleamed conspicuous. The foremost of the 
pursuing party appeared too busy with the tories to see 
any thing else ; and they entered the avenue at the 
same moment with the party pursued. With what 
horror and consternation did Mrs. Slocumb recognize 
her husband, her brother, and two of her neighbors, in 
chase of the tory captain and four of his band, already 
half-way down the avenue, and unconscious that they 
were rushing into the enemy's midst! 

About the middle of the avenue one of the tories 
fell ; and the course of the brave and imprudent young 
officers was suddenly arrested by " Big George," who 
sprang directly in front of their horses, crying, " Hold 
on, massa! de debbil here! Look yon !"* A glance to 
the left showed the young men their danger: they were 
within pistol shot of a thousand men drawn up in order 
of battle. Wheeling their horses, they discovered a 
* Yon, for yonder. 



MARY SLOCUMB. 313 

troop already leaping the fence into the avenue in their 
rear. Quick as thought they again wheeled their 
horses, and dashed down the avenue directly towards 
the house, where stood the quarter-guard to receive 
them. On reaching the garden fence — a rude structure 
formed of a kind of lath, and called a wattled fence — 
they leaped that and the next, amid a shower of balls 
from the guard, cleared the canal at one tremendous leap, 
and scouring across the open field to the northwest, 
were in the shelter of the wood before their pursuers 
could clear the fences of the enclosure. The whole 
ground of this adventure may be seen as the traveller 
passes over the Wilmington railroad, a mile and a half 
south of Dudley depot. 

A platoon had commenced the pursuit ; but the 
trumpets sounded the recall before the flying Ameri- 
cans had crossed the canal. The presence of mind 
and lofty language of the heroic wife, had convinced 
the British Colonel that the daring men who so fear- 
lessly dashed into his camp were supported by a for- 
midable force at hand. Had the truth been known, 
and the fugitives pursued, nothing could have prevented 
the destruction not only of the four who fled, but of the 
rest of the company on the east side of the plan- 
tation. 

Tarleton had rode back to the front of the house, 
where he remained eagerly looking after the fugitives 
till they disappeared in the wood. He called for the 
tory captain, who presently came forward, questioned 
nim about the attack in the woods, asked the names of 
14 



314 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

the American officers, and dismissed him to have his 
wounds dressed, and see after his men. The last part 
of the order was needless ; for nearly one-half of his 
troop had fallen. The ground is known to this day as 
the Dead Men's Field. 

As Tarleton walked into the house he observed to 
Mrs. Slocumb, "Your husband made us a short visit, 
madam. I should have been happy to make his acquain- 
tance, and that of his friend, Mr. Williams." 

"I have little doubt," replied the wife, " that you will 
meet the gentlemen, and they will thank you for the 
polite manner in which you treat their friends." 

The Colonel observed apologetically, that necessity 
compelled them to occupy her property ; that they 
took only such things as were necessary to their sup- 
port, for which they were instructed to offer proper re- 
muneration ; and that every thing should be done to 
render their stay as little disagreeable as possible. 
The lady expressed her thankfulness for his kindness, 
and withdrew to her room, while the officers returned 
to their peach-brandy and coffee, and closed the day 
with a merry night. 

Slocumb and his companions passed rapidly round 
the plantation, and returned to the ground where the 
encounter had taken place, collecting on the way the 
stragglers of his troop. Near their bivouac he saw 
the tory captain's brother, who had been captured by 
the Americans, hanging by a bridal rein from the top 
of a sapling bent down for the purpose, and struggling 
in the agonies of death. Hastening to the spot, he 



MARY SLOCUMB. 315 

severed the rein with a stroke of his sword, and with 
much difficulty restored him to life. Many in the lower 
part of North Carolina can remember an old man 
whose protruded eyes and suffused countenance pre- 
sented the appearance of one half strangled. He it 
was who thus owed his life and liberty to the humanity 
of his generous foe. 

Mr. Flocumb, by the aid of Major Williams, raised 
about two hundred men in the neighborhood, and with 
this force continued to harass the rear of the royal 
army, frequently cutting off foraging parties, till they 
crossed the Roanoke, when they joined the army of 
La Fayette at Warrenton. He remained with the 
army till the surrender at Yorktown. 

It need hardly be mentioned that "Big George" 
received his reward for this and other services. His 
life with his master was one of ease and indulgence. 
On the division of Colonel Slocumb's estate some years 
since, a considerable amount was paid to enable the 
faithful slave to spend the remnant of his days with his 
wife, who belonged to another person. 

Another anecdote, communicated by the same friend 
of Mrs. Slocumb, is strikingly illustrative of her resolu- 
tion and strength of will. The occurrence took place 
at a time when the whole country was roused by the 
march of the British and loyalists from the Cape Fear 
country, to join the royal standard at Wilmington 
The veteran Donald McDonald issued his proclamation 
at Cross Creek, in February, 177G, and having assembled 
his Highlanders, marched across rivers and through 



316 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION 

forests, in haste to join Governor Martin and Sir Henry 
Clinton, who were already at Cape Fear. But while 
he had eluded the pursuit of Moore, the patriots of New- 
bern and Wilmington Districts were not idle. It was 
a time of noble enterprise, and gloriously did leaders 
and people come forward to meet the emergency. The 
gallant Richard Caswell called his neighbors hastily 
together ; and they came at his call as readily as the 
clans of the Scotch mountains mustered at the signal of 
the burning cross. The whole county rose in mass ; 
scarce a man able to walk was left in the Neuse region. 
The united regiments of Colonels Lillington and Cas- 
well encountered McDonald at Moore's Creek ;* where, 
on the twenty-seventh, was fought one of the bloodiest 
battles of the Revolution. Colonel Slocumb's recollec- 
tions of this bravely-contested field were too vivid to 
be dimmed by the lapse of years. He was accustomed 
to dwell but lightly on the gallant part borne by himself 
in that memorable action ; but he gave abundant praise 
to his associates ; and well did they deserve the tribute. 
"And," he would say — "my wife was there!" She 
was indeed ; but the story is best told in her own words : 
" The men all left on Sunday morning. More than 
eighty went from this house with my husband ; I looked 
at them well, and I could see that every man had 
mischief in him. I know- a coward as soon as 1 set 
my eyes upon him. The tories more than once *ried 

* Moore's Creek, running from north to south, empties into the South 
River, about twenty miles above W'lmington. See sketch of Flora 
McDonald 



MARY SLOCUMB. 317 

to frighten me, but they always showed coward at the 
bare insinuation that our troops were about. 

" Well, they got off in high spirits ; every man stepping 
high and light. And I slept soundly and quietly that 
night, and worked hard all the next day; but I kept 
thinking where they had got to — how far; where and 
how many of the regulars and tories they would meet ; 
and I could not keep myself from the study. I went to 
bed at the usual time, but still continued to study. As 
I lay — whether waking or sleeping I know not — I had 
a dream ; yet it was not all a dream. (She used the 
words, unconsciously, of the poet who was not then in 
being.) I saw distinctly a body wrapped in my husband's 
guard-cloak — bloody — dead ; and others dead and 
wounded on the ground about him. I saw them plainly 
and distinctly. I uttered a cry, and sprang to my feet 
on the floor ; and so strong was the impression on my 
mind, that I rushed in the direction the vision appeared, 
and came up against the side of the house. The fire in 
the room gave little light, and I gazed in every direction 
to catch another glimpse of the scene. I raised the 
light ; every thing was still and quiet. My child was 
sleeping, but my woman was awakened by my crying 
out or jumping on the floor. If ever I felt fear it was 
at that moment. Seated on the bed, I reflected a few 
moments — and said aloud : ' I must go to him.' I told 
the woman I could not sleep and would ride down the 
road. She appeared in great alarm ; but I merely told 
her to lock the door after me, and look after the child, 
T went to the stable, saddled my mare — as fleet and easy 



318 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

a nag as ever travelled; and in one minute we were 
tearing down the road at full speed. The cool night 
seemed after a mile or two's gallop to bring reflection 
with it; and I asked myself where I was going, and for 
what purpose. Again and again I was tempted to turn 
back; but I was soon ten miles from home, and my 
mind became stronger every mile I rode. I should find 
my husband dead or dying — was as firmly my presenti- 
ment and conviction as any fact of my life. When 
day broke I was some thirty miles from home. I knew 
the general route our little army expected to take, and 
had followed them without hesitation. About sunrise 
I came upon a group of women and children, standing 
and sitting by the road-side, each one of them showing 
the same anxiety of mind I felt. Stopping a few minutes 
1 inquired if the battle had been fought. They knew 
nothing, but were assembled on the road to catch intelli- 
gence. They thought Caswell had taken the right of 
the Wilmington road, and gone towards the north- 
west (Cape Fear). Again was I skimming over the 
ground through a country thinly settled, and very poor 
and swampy ; but neither my own spirits nor my beauti 
ful nag's failed in the least. We followed the well- 
marked trail of the troops. 

" The sun must have been well up, say eight or nine 
o'clock, when I heard a sound like thunder, which 1 
knew must be cannon. It was the first time I ever 
heard a cannon. 1 stopped still ; when presently the 
cannon thundered again. The battle was then fighting. 
What a fool ! my husband could not be dead last night, 



MARY SLOCUMB. 319 

and the battle only fighting now ! Still, as I am so 
near, I will go on and see how they come out. So 
away we went again, faster than ever; and I soon found 
by the noise of guns that I was near the fight. Again 
I stopped*. I could hear muskets, I could hear rifles, 
and I could hear shouting. I spoke to my mare and 
dashed on in the direction of the firing and the shouts, 
now louder than ever. The blind path I had been 
following brought me into the Wilmington road leading 
to Moore's Creek Bridge, a few hundred yards below 
the bridge. A few yards from the road, under a 
cluster of trees were lying perhaps twenty men. They 
were the wounded. I knew the spot; the very trees; 
and the position of the men I knew as if I had seen it 
a thousand times. I had seen it all night ! I saw all 
at once ; but in an instant my whole soul was centred 
in one spot ; for there, wrapped in his bloody guard- 
cloak, was my husband's body! How I passed the 
few yards from my saddle to the place I never knew. 
I remember uncovering his head and seeing a face 
clothed with gore from a dreadful wound across the 
temple. I put my hand on the bloody face; 'twas 
warm ; and an unknown voice begged for water. A 
small camp-kettle was lying near, and a stream of water 
was close by. I brought it ; poured some in his mouth ; 
washed his face ; and behold — it was Frank Cogdell. 
He soon revived and could speak. I was washing the 
wound in his head. Said he, ' It is not that ; it is that 
hole in my leg that is killing me.' A puddle of blood 
was standing on the ground about his feet. I took his 



320 WOMEN OP THE REVOLUTION. 

knife, cut away his trousers and stocking, and found the 
blood came from a shot-hole through and through the 
fleshy part of his leg. I looked about and could see 
nothing that looked as if it would do for dressing wounds 
but some heart-leaves. I gathered a handful and bound 
them tight to the holes ; and the bleeding stopped. I 
then went to the others ; and — Doctor ! I dressed the 
wounds of many a brave fellow who did good fighting 
long after that day ! I had not inquired for my husband ; 
but while I was busy Caswell came up. He appeared 
very much surprised to see me ; and was with his hat in 
hand about to pay some compliment : but I interrupted 
him by asking — ' Where is my husband ?' 

* Where he ought to be, madam ; in pursuit of the 
enemy. But pray,' said he, ' how came you here ?' 

' ' Oh, I thought,' replied I, ' you would need nurses 
as well as soldiers. See ! I have already dressed many 
of these good fellows ; and here is one' — going to 
Frank and lifting him up with my arm under his head 
so that he could drink some more water — ' would have 
died before any of you men could have helped him.' 

" ' I believe you,' said Frank. Just then I looked 
up, and my husband, as bloody as a butcher, and as 
muddy as a ditcher,* stood before me. 

" ' Why, Mary !" he exclaimed, ' What are you doing 
there ? Hugging Frank Cogdell, the greatest reprobate 
in the army V 

* It was his company that forded the creek, and penetrating the 
swamp, made the furious charge on the British left and rear, which 
decided the fate of jhe day. 



MARY SLOCUMB. 321 

" ' I don't care,' I cried. ' Frank is a brave fellow, 
a good soldier, and a true friend to Congress.' 

" ' True, true ! every word of it !' said Caswell. 
' You are right, madam !' with the lowest possible 
bow. 

" I would not tell my husband what brought me 
there. I was so happy; and so were all! It was a 
glorious victory; I came just at the height of the en- 
joyment. I knew my husband was surprised, but I 
could see he was not displeased with me. It was night 
again before our excitement had at all subsided. Many 
prisoners were brought in, and among them some very 
obnoxious ; but the worst of the tories were not taken 
prisoners. They were, for the most part, left in the 
woods and swamps wherever they were overtaken. I 
begged for some of the poor prisoners, and Caswell 
readily told me none should be hurt but such as had 
been guilty of murder and house-burning. In the mid- 
dle of the night I again mounted my mare and started 
for home. Caswell and my husband wanted me to stay 
till next morning and they would send a party with me ; 
but no! I wanted to see my child, and I told them they 
could send no party who could keep up with me. What 
a happy ride I had back ! and with what joy did I em- 
brace my child as he ran to meet me !" 

What fiction could be stranger than such truth! 
And would not a plain unvarnished narrative of the 
sayings and doings of the actors in Revolutionary times, 
unknown by name, save in the neighborhood where 
they lived, and now almost forgotten even by their de- 
14* 



322 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

scendants, surpass in thrilling interest any romance 
ever written! In these days of railroads and steam, *it 
can scarcely be credited that a woman actually rode 
alone, in the night, through a wild unsettled country, 
a distance — going and returning — of a hundred and 
twenty-five miles ; and that in less than* forty hours, 
and without any interval of rest ! Yet even this fair 
equestrian, whose feats would astonish the modern 
world, admitted that one of her acquaintances was a 
better horsewoman than herself. This was Miss Esther 
Wake, the beautiful sister-in-law of Governor Tryon, 
after whom Wake County was named. She is said to 
have rode eighty miles — the distance between Raleigh 
and the Governor's head-quarters in the neighborhood 
of Colonel Slocumb's residence — to pay a visit ; re- 
turning the next day. Governor Tryon was here 
several days, at the time he made the famous foray 
against the Regulators. What would these women 
have said to the delicacy of modern refinement in the 
southern country, fatigued with a moderate drive in a 
close carriage, and looking out on woods and fields from 
the windows ! 

The physiologist may explain the vision that pro- 
duced an impression so powerful as to determine this 
resolute wife upon her nocturnal expedition to Moore's 
Creek. The idea of danger to her husband, which 
banished sleep, was sufficient to call up the illusion to 
her excited imagination ; and her actions were decided 
by the impulse of the moment, prompting her to hasten 
at once to his assistance. 



MARY SLOCUMB. 323 

This is not the place to record the Revolutionary- 
services of Colonel Slocumb. The aid of one of his 
descendants enables me to add some notice of the per- 
sonal history of his wife to the foregoing anecdotes. 
Her maiden name was Hooks. She was born in the 
county of TBertie, North Carolina, in 1760. When she 
was about ten years of age, her father, after a tour of 
exploration in search of a portion of country which 
combined the advantages of fertility and healthful air, 
removed his family to the county of Duplin. He was 
an open-hearted, hospitable man ; and was one of 
a number bearing the same character, who settled a 
region of country called Goshen, still famous in North 
Carolina for the frank simplicity of the manners of its 
inhabitants, and for their profuse and generous hospi- 
tality. Here were nurtured some of the noblest spirits 
of the Revolution. The names of Renau, Hill, 
Wright, Pearsall, Hooks, and Slocumb, among others, 
are remembered with pride. The constant presence 
of the loyalists or tories in the neighborhood, and their 
frequent depredations, called for vigilance as well as 
bravery. Many a tale of treachery and cruelty, enough 
to freeze the blood with horror, is this day told at the 
fireside. Sometimes the barn or dwelling of the doomed 
whig, wrapped in lurid flames, lighted up the darkness 
of the night ; sometimes his fate was to be hung to a 
sapling ; and not unfrequently these atrocities were in 
like manner avenged upon the aggressors. Accustomed 
to hear of such things, and inured to scenes of danger, 
it cannot be wondered, that the gay aid sprightly Mary 



324 WOMEN OF THE REVOJ UTION. 

Hooks should acquire a degree of masculine energy 
and independence, with many of the accomplishments 
of the bolder sex. She was at this time in the early 
bloom of youth, with slender and symmetrical form 
and pleasing features, animated by blue, expressive, 
laughing eyes. If not absolutely beautiflll, her face 
could not fail to charm ; for it beamed with the bright 
soul that knew not what it -was to fear. Her playful 
wit and repartee, rendered piquant by her powers of 
sarcasm, were rarely equalled. 

Soon after the removal of the family to Goshen, her 
mother died; and in 1777, her father married the 
widow of John Charles Slocumb, who resided in the 
locality above-described, on the Neuse. At the time 
of their marriage, the parties had each three children 
Ezekiel Slocumb was the eldest son, and as the law 
then stood, inherited the whole of his father's real estate. 
Of the two plantations to which he was entitled, how- 
ever, he gave one to his brother. Though but a youth 
of seventeen, the management of the property devolved 
on him ; while the other children of the united family 
lived together at Goshen. Indue time for a " course of 
love," Ezekiel Slocumb and Mary Hooks were married, 
both being about eighteen years of age. The lovely 
and spirited bride immediately entered upon her duties 
at her husband's home on the Neuse ; but they were 
not allowed to remain long in untroubled security. To 
prevent or punish the frequent depredations of the 
tories, the boy-husband joined a troop of light-horse, 
who, acting on their own responsibility, performed the 



MARY SLOCUMB 325 

duty of scouts, scouring the country wherever they had 
notice of any necessity for their presence. In these 
prolonged absences, Mrs. Slocumb took the entire 
charge of the plantation, being obliged to perform many 
of the duties which usually fall to the lot of the rougher 
sex. She used to say, laughingly, that she had done in 
those perilous times all that a man ever did, except 
" mauling rails ;" and to take away even that exception 
she went out one day and split a few. She was a 
graceful and fearless rider ; and Die Vernon herself 
never displayed more skillful horsemanship in scamper- 
ing over the hills of Scotland, than did the subject of this 
memoir, in her excursions through the wild woods of 
Neuse. Not only was this southern accomplishment 
then in vogue among the women, but it was not thought 
unfeminine to chase the fox. Many a time and oft has 
our heroine been in at the death, and won the honor. 
Nor could the stag say confidently, ' this day he would 
not die,' if Mary Slocumb chanced to be mounted on 
" Old Roan," with her light unerring " Joe Manton" 
slung at her side ! 

But those were not days for sport and pleasure alone 
In the knowledge how to spin, sew, and weave, our fair 
equestrian was perfect. She could also wash and cook ; 
and it was her pride to excel in all she did. In those 
days matrons of condition disdained not labor with their 
hands ; nor were affluent circumstances an excuse for 
idleness or extravagance. The results of her persever- 
ing industry and that of her domestics appeared at her 
death in curtains, quilts, and cloths of various sorts and 



32G WOMEN DF THE REVOLUTION. 

patterns, sufficient in quantity to furnish a country 
store. Let our indole it fine ladies blush for themselves 
when they learn that a woman of mind and intelligence, 
whose rare powers of conversation charmed the social 
circle, actually carded, spun, wove, cut and made all 
the clothes worn by an officer of the army in active 
service during the southern campaign, including his 
guard-cloak ; and that the material of her own dress 
was manufactured by her own hands !* 

* The following picture of a housewife of the olden time is taken 
from the MS. " Remembrancer" of Christoph r Marshall, Member of 
the Committee of Observation, &c, &c. T e curious manuscript 
papers have been arranged by William Duane, jun., of Philadel- 
phia : 

" As I have in this memorandum taken scarcely any notice of my 
wife's employments, it might appear as if her engagements were very 
trifling; the which is not the case, but the reverse; and to do her 
that justice which her services deserved, by entering them minutely, 
would take up most of my time, for this genuine reason, how that 
from early in the morning till late at night, she is constantly employ- 
ed in the affairs of the family, which for four months has been very 
large ; for besides the addition to our family in the house, [is] a con- 
stant resort of comers and goers, which seldom go away with dry lips 
and hungry bellies. This calls for her constant attendance, not only 
to provide, but also to attend at getting prepared in the kitchen, bak- 
ing our bread and pies, meat, &c, and also on the table. Her clean- 
liness about the house, her attendance in the orchard, cutting and 
drying apples, of which several bushels have been procured ; add to 
which, her making of cider without tools, fur the constant drink of 
the family, her seeing all our washing done, and her fine clothes and 
my shirts, the which are all smoothed by her ; add to this, her making 
of twenty large cheeses, and that from one cow, and daily using with 
milk and cream, besides her sewing, knitting, &c. Thus she looketh 
well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idle 



MARY SLOCUMB. 327 

Mrs. Slocumb's was a happy girlhood and youth. 
She always recurred to its history with delight ; and 
retained the fashion of dress then prevalent with a fond 
pertinacity amusing to others. She scorned ever to 
wear any other than the long tight-waisted habit worn 
in her youthful days ; and however costly the material, 
it had to be cut in the good old way. For almost sixty 
years she never did, and never would, allow herself to 
vary one iota from the fashion of Seventy-Six. It was 
with her a matter of pride no less than taste ; it was a 
relic of the Revolution ; and it would have savored of 
ingratitude, if not of impiety, to cast it away. 

The true dignity of an American matron was shown 
in Mrs. Slocumb's reception and entertainment of the 
British officers, as already related. Her deportment 
was uniformly calm and self-possessed ; her lofty spirit 
gave to her s-lender and fragile form a majesty that 
secured the respect of all the officers, and protected her 
from the slightest approach towards insolent familiarity. 
She presided at her table with dignity and courtesy, 
extending open hospitality to all her unbidden guests. 
Her liberality was acknowledged by strict orders that 
no depredations should be committed on any thing 
belonging to the house or plantation. These orders 
were in general successfully enforced ; but even military 
authority could not save the farm-yard poultry or stock 
from a hungry soldiery. Not a feather was left, ana 

ness ; yea, she also stretcheth out her hand, and she reacheth forth 
her hand to her needy friends and neighbors. I think she has not 
been above four times since her residence has been here, to visit her 
neighbors. 



328 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

many a fine bullock was knocked in the head. But in 
other things the protection availed her. On the news 
of the army's approach, she had taken the precaution to 
bury in the edge of a marsh near at hand, her plate and 
other valuables. The soldiers suspected the place of 
deposit, and plunged their pike-staffs into the ground 
about the spot, until they discovered the treasure. 
They were compelled to restore it to the rightful ownei 

Mrs. Slocumb's little son, at this time two or three 
years old, became a pet with several of the officers. 
The little fellow was permitted to share with them the 
pleasure and pride of prancing about on their splendid 
chargers. Perhaps to some of them his childish glee 
recalled their own domestic circles, and awakened in 
their stern hearts the holy feelings of home. They 
seemed delighted when the infant equestrian thus 
playing dragoon, would clap his little hands and shout 
in his innocent mirth. This child was the Hon. Jesse 
Slocumb, member of Congress, who died full of honors in 
early manhood. His remains rest in the Congressional 
burial-ground at Washington. The brother of Mrs. 
Slocumb already mentioned, was at the same time a 
member from the Wilmington District. He died two 
or three years since in Alabama. 

When the British army broke up their encampment 
at the plantation, a sergeant was ordered by Colonel 
Tarleton to stand in the door till the last soldier had 
gone out, to ensure protection to a lady whose noble 
bearing had inspired them all with the most profound 
respect. This order was obeyed; the guard brought 



MARY SLOCUMB. 329 

up the rear of that army in their march noiihward 
Mrs. Slocumb saw them depart with tears of joy ; and 
on her knees gave thanks, with a full heart, to the 
Divine Being who had protected her. A day or two 
afterwards, her husband returned to her arms and a 
happy home. They lived together for sixty years in 
unbroken harmony, the patriarchs of all that country, 
and looked up to by the inhabitants with unbounded 
love and respect. Many a traveller has been entertained 
at this hospitable mansion. A chapter might here be 
written on the subject of that ancient hospitality now 
so nearly obsolete in regions of country visited by the 
march of improvement. It was preserved in all its 
primitive exuberance in the house of Colonel Slocumb ; 
there was always provision in his larder, and a place 
at his board for the chance guest, who was certain of a 
cordial welcome, and wine which a connoisseur would 
have pronounced of the choicest vintage of Europe. 
If it be asked how this unbounded hospitality was sup- 
ported — the answer is, every thing used was of home 
manufacture; nothing being purchased except those 
few essentials which are not the produce of our country. 
Mrs. Slocumb possessed a strong and original mind, 
a commanding intellect and clear judgment, which she 
retained unimpaired to the time of her death. Among 
her friends she was remarkable for vivid powers of con- 
versation, while those less familiarly acquainted thought 
her reserved, and some fancied her severe and sarcastic. 
In this respect she was misjudged, for her severity was 
aimed only at folly or misconduct. 



330 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Her characteristic fortitude in the endurance of bodily 
pain — so great that it seemed absolute stoicism — should 
be noticed. In her seventy-second year she was afflicted 
with a cancer on her hand, which the surgeon informed 
her must be removed with the knife. At the time 
appointed for the operation she prot^ d against being 
held by the assistants, telling the surgeon, "it was his 
business to cut out the cancer; she would take care of 
her arm." He insisted, however, on her submitting to 
be held. At the first incision, one of the assistants 
complained of faintness; Mrs. Slocumb bade him go 
away; and driving them off, braced her arm on the 
table, and never moved a muscle nor uttered a groan 
during the operation. 

In her last years she was visited with a complication 
of disorders, enough to have broken the stoutest spirit; 
but bore all with Christian patience, and at the age of 
seventy-six sank quietly to rest. She died on the sixth of 
March, 1836. Her venerable husband survived her 
about five years. Both now slumber together near 
the home where they lived and loved so long. Pleasant 
Green has passed into the hands of other owners ; 
the noble old oaks that surrounded the mansion and 
lined the avenue, have been girdled, and seem to lift 
their bare arms in lamentation for their ancient pos- 
sessors. But the memory of those who dwelt there is 
linked with glorious recollections, which time can never 
efface from American hearts. 



ESTHER WAKE. 331 

Mention has been made of Esther Wake, the sister 
of Lady Tryon. These two lovely and accomplished 
women exercised great influence, according to tradition, 
in matters of state.* The gallantry of a warm-hearted 
people perhaps inclined them to estimate the character 
of their governor by the grace, beauty and accomplish- 
ment that adorned his domestic circle. The governor's 
dinners were princely, and the fascination of the ladies 
irresistible. In his attempt to obtain an appropriation 
from the assembly for building a splendid palace, female 
genius and influence rose superior to his official conse- 
quence and political manoeuvres. Though the colony 
was poor, their management obtained a second grant. 
The admiration they commanded helped to sustain 
Governor Tryon's waning authority. When the royal 
government was annihilated, and the motion to change 
the name of Tryon County was under consideration, 
the resolution to alter that of Wake was rejected by 
acclamation. Thus the county in which the city of 
Raleigh is located, is consecrated to the memory of 
beauty and virtue. 

'Sabine's Americm Loyalists. Jones' Defence of North Carolina. 



XXV. 



SARAH BACHE* 

Sarah, the only daughter of Benjamin Franklin, was 
born at Philadelphia, on the eleventh of September, 1744. 
Of her earl) T years no particulars can now be obtained ; 
but from her father's appreciation of the importance of 
education, and the intelligence and information that she 
displayed through life, we may presume that her studies 
were as extensive as were then pursued by females in 
any of the American colonies. 

In 1764, she was called to part with her father, sent 
to Europe for the first time in a representative capacity. 
The people of Pennsylvania were at that time divided 
into two parties — the supporters and the opponents of 
the proprietaries. The sons of Penn, as is known, 
had left the religion of their father, and joined the 
Church of England; and the bulk of that persuasion 
were of the proprietary party. The mass of the 
Quakers were in opposition, and w'th them Franklin 
had acted. After having been for fourteen years a 

* Mr, William Duane, to whose pen the reader is indebted for this 
sketch — is the grandson of Mrs Bache. 




&&S. 



Cc <? /i{^^ 



SARAH BACHE. 333 

member of the Assembly, he lost his election to that 
body in the autumn of 1764, by a few votes ; but his 
friends being in the majority in the House, immediately 
elected him the agent of the province in England. The 
proprietary party made great opposition to his appoint- 
ment ; and an incident occurred in connection with it 
that shows us how curiously the affairs of Church and 
State were intermingled in those days. A petition or 
remonstrance to the Assembly against his being chosen 
agent, was laid for signature upon the communion-table 
of Christ Church, in which he was a pew-holder, and 
his wife a communicant. His daughter appears to 
have resented this outrage upon decency and the 
feelings of her family, and to have spoken of leaving 
the church in consequence ; which gave occasion to the 
following dissuasive in the letter which her father wrote 
to her from Reedy Island, November 8th, 1764, on his 
way to Europe : " Go constantly to church whoever 
preaches. The act of devotion in the common prayer- 
book is your principal business there ; and if properly 
attended to, will do more towards amending the heart 
than sermons generally can do; for they were com- 
posed by men of much greater piety and wisdom than 
our common composers of sermons can pretend to be ; 
and therefore I wish you would never miss the prayer 
days. Yet I do not mean you should despise sermons, 
even of the preachers you dislike, for the discourse is 
often much better than the man, as sweet and clear 
waters come through very dirty earth. I am the more 
particular en this head, as you seemed to express a lit- 



334 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

tie before I came away some inclination to leave our 
church, which I would not have you do."* 

The opinion entertained by many that a disposition 
to mobbing is of modern growth in this country is erro 
neous. In Colonial times outrages of this character 
were at least as frequent as now. Dr. Franklin had not 
been gone a year before his house was threatened with 
an attack. Mrs. Franklin sent her daughter to Gov- 
ernor Franklin's in Burlington, and proceeded to make 
preparation for the defence of her " castle." Her letter 
detailing the particulars may be found in the last edition 
of Watson's Annals of Philadelphia. 

The first letter from Sarah Franklin to her father 
that has been preserved, was written after her return 
from this visit to Burlington. In it she says, " The 
subject now is Stamp Act, and nothing else is talked 
of. The Dutch talk of the ' Stamp tack,' the negroes 
of the ' tamp' — in short, everv body has something to 
say." The commissions which follow for gloves, laven- 
der, and tooth-powder, give us a humble idea of the 
state of the supplies in the Colonies at that day. The 
letter thus concludes : " There is not a young lady of 
my acquaintance but what desires to be remembered to 
you. I am, my dear, your very dutiful daughter, 

" Sally Franklin." 

In a letter dated on the 23d of the rollowing March 
(1765), the Stamp Act is again mentioned : "We have 

* The manuscript letters from which extracts are made in this me- 
moir, are in the possession of Mrs. Bache's descendants in Philadel- 
ohia. 



SARAH BACHE. 335 

heard by a round-about way that the Stamp Act is 
repealed. The people seem determined to believe it, 
though it came from Ireland to Maryland. The bells 
rung, we had bonfires, and one house was illuminated. 
Indeed I never heard so muc h noise in my life ; the 
very children seem distracted. I hope and pray the 
noise may be true." 

A letter to her brother, written September 30th, 1766, 
speaks thus of some political movements in Philadel- 
phia at that time : " The letter from Mr. Sergeant was 
to Daniel Wistar. I send you the Dutch paper, where 
I think there is something about it. On Friday night 
there was a meeting of seven or eight hundred men in 
Hare's brew-house, where Mr. P>oss, mounted on a bag 
of grain, spoke to them a considerable time. He read 
Sergeant's letter, and some others, which had a good 
effect, as they satisfied many. Some of the people say 
he outdid Whitfield ; and Sir John says he is in a direct 
line from Solomon. He spoke several things in favor 
of his absent friend, whom he called the good, the wor- 
thy Dr. Franklin, and his worthy friend. After he was 
gone, Hugh Roberts stood up and proposed him in 
Willing's place, and desired those who were for him to 
stand up ; and they all rose to a man." 

On the 29th of October, 1767, Sarah Franklin was 
married to Richard Bache, a merchant of Philadelphia, 
and a native of Settle, in Yorkshire, England. After 
their marriage, Mr. and Mrs. Bache appear to have 
resided with Mrs. Franklin in the house built by her in 



33G WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

the year 1765, upon ground over which Franklin Place 
now runs.* 

Mrs. Franklin died on the 19th of December, 1774, 
having been attacked by paralysis four days previously- 
The mansion house continued to be occupied by Mr. 
Bache and his family. In the garden a willow tree was 
planted by Mrs. Bache on the 4th of July, 1776. 

The approach of the British army through New 
Jersey in December, 1776, induced Mr. Bache to re- 
move his family to Goshen township in Chester County, 
from which place the following letter was addressed by 
Mrs. Bache to her father, who, in the previous October, 
had been sent to France by the American Congress. 
Mrs. Bache's eldest son accompanied him, and was edu- 
cated in France and Geneva under the supervision of 
his grandfather. 

" Goshen, February 23d, 1777. 
' Honored Sir — 

" We have been impatiently waiting to hear of 
your arrival for some time. It was seventeen weeks 
yesterday since you left us — a day I shall never forget. 

* This house, in which Franklin died, stood rather nearer to Chest- 
nut Street than to Market Street. The original entrance to it was 
over the ground upon which No. 112 Market Street is now built. On 
Franklin's return from Europe, he opened a new entrance to it be- 
tween Nos. 106 and 10S, under the archway still remaining, the house 
No. 106, and that lately No. 108, being built by him. His house was 
torn down about the year 1813, when Franklin Court was built upon 
the ground occupied by it — the court in front and the garden in the 
rear 



SARAH BACHE. 337 

How happy shall we be to hear you are all safe arrived 
and well. You had not left us long before we were 
obliged to leave town. I never shall forget nor forgive 
them for turning me out of house and home in the mid- 
dle of winter, and we are still about twenty-four miles 
from Philadephia, in Chester County, the next plan- 
tation to where Mr. Ashbridge used to live. We have 
two comfortable rooms, and we are as happily situated 
as I can be separated from Mr. Bache ; he comes to 
see us as often as his business will permit. Your library 
we sent out of town well packed in boxes, a week be- 
fore us, and all the valuable things, mahogany excepted, 
we brought with us. There was such confusion that 
it was a hard matter to get out at any rate ; when we 
shall get back again I know not, though things are 
altered much in our favor since we left town. I think 
I shall never be afraid of staying in it again, if the 
enemy were only three miles instead of thirty from it, 
since our cowards, as Lord Sandwich calls them, are so 
ready to turn out against those heroes who were to 
conquer all before them, but have found themselves so 
much mistaken ; their courage never brought them to 
Trenton, till they heard our army were disbanded. I 
send you the newspapers ; but as they do not always 
speak true, and as there may be some particulars in 
Mr. Bache's letters to me that are not in them, I will 
copy those parts of his letters that contain the news. I 
think you will have it more regular. 

" Aunt has wrote to you, and sent it to town. She 
is very well, and desires her love to you and Temple 
15 



338 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

We have wished much for him here when we have 
been a little dull ; he would have seen some characters 
here quite new to him. It's lucky for us Mr. George 
Clymer's, Mr. Meredith's, and Mr. Budden's families 
are moved so near us. They are sensible and agreeable 
people, and are not often alone. I have refused dining 
at Mr. Clymer's to-day, that I might have the pleasure 
of writing to you and my dear boy, who, I hope, be- 
haves so as to make you love him. We used to think 
he gave little trouble at home ; but that was, perhaps, 
a mother's partiality. I am in great hopes that the first 
letter of Mr. Bache will bring me news of your arrival. 
I shall then have cause to rejoice. I am, my dear papa, 
as much as ever, your dutiful and affectionate daughter. 

"S. Bache." 

Mrs Bache returned home with her family shortly 
after, but in the following autumn the approach of the 
British army after their victory on the Brandywine, 
again drove them from Philadelphia. On the 17th of 
September, 1777, four days after the birth of her second 
daughter, Mrs. Bache left town, taking refuge at first in 
the hospitable mansion of her friend Mrs. Duffield, in 
Lower Dublin Township, Philadel. Co. They afterwards 
removed to Manheim Township in Lancaster County 
where they remained until the evacuation of Philadel 
phia by the British forces. The following extracts are 
from letters written to Dr. Franklin after their return. 
On the 14th July, 1778, Mr. Bache writes: "Once 
more I have the happiness of addressing you from this 



SARAH BACHE. 339 

dearly beloved city, after having been kept out of it 
more than nine months. * * * I found your house 
and furniture upon my return to town., in much better 
order than I had reason to expect from the hands of 
such a rapacious crew ; they stole and carried off with 
them some of your musical instruments, viz : a Welsh 
harp, ball harp, the set of tuned bells which were in a 
box, viol-de-gamba, all the spare armonica glasses and 
one or two spare cases. Your armonica is safe. They 
took likewise the few books that were left behind, the 
chief of which were Temple's school books and the 
History of the Arts and Sciences in French, which is 
a great loss to the public ; some of your electric appa- 
ratus is missing also — a Captain Andre also took with 
him the picture of you which hung in the dining-room. 
The rest of the pictures are safe and met with no 
damage, except the frame of Alfred, which is broken to 
pieces."* 

Andre was quartered in Franklin's house during the 
sojourn of the British in Philadelphia. In the follow- 
ing letter from Mrs. Bache, his future acquaintance 
Arnold is mentioned. It is dated October 22, 1778, 
Mrs. Bache having remained at Manheim with her 
children until the autumn. " This is the first opportunity 
I have had since my return home of writing to you. 
We found the house and furniture in much better order 
than we could expect, which was ov ing to the care the 

* The postscript to this letter is curious " I wish I could have sent 
to me from France two dozen of padlocks and keys fit for mails, and 
a dozen post-horns ; they are not to be had here." 



340 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

Miss Cliftons took of all we left behind ; my being 
removed four days after my little girl was born, made 
it impossible for me to remove half the things we did in 
our former flight." After describing her little girl, she 
adds :. •' I would give a good deal you could see her ; 
you can't think how fond of kissing she is, and gives 
such old-fashioned smacks, General Arnold says he 
would give a good deal to have her for a school mistress, 
to teach the young ladies how to kiss." * # # There 
is hardly such a thing as living in town, every thing is 
so high, the money is old tenor to all intents and 
purposes. If I was to mention the prices of the common 
necessaries of life it would astonish you. I have been 
all amazement since my return; such an odds have 
two years made, that I can scarcely believe I am in 
Philadelphia. # * * They really ask me six dollars 
for a pair of gloves, and I have been obliged to pay 
fifteen pounds for a common calamanco petticoat 
without quilting, that I once could have got for fifteen 
shillings." 

These high prices were owing to the depreciation of 
the Continental money, but it subsequently was much 
greater. The time came when Mrs. Bache's domestics 
were obliged to take two baskets with them to market, 
one empty to contain the provisions they purchased, 
the other full of continental money to pay for them. 

On the 17th of January, 1779, after speaking of the 
continued rise of prices, she writes, that " there never 
was so much dressing and pleasure going on; old friends 
meeting again, the whigs in high spirits and strangeis 



SARAH BACHE. 341 

of distinction among us." Speaking of her having met 
with General and Mrs. Washington several times, she 
adds : " He always inquires after you in the most 
affectionate manner, and speaks of you highly. We 
danced at Mrs. Powell's on your birth-day, or night I 
should say, in company together, and he told me it was 
the anniversary of his marriage ; it was just twenty years 
that night." 

With this letter a piece of American silk was sent as 
a present to the Queen of France, Maria Antionette. 

Dr. Franklin in his reply seems to have expressed 
some dissatisfaction at the gaiety of his countrymen, 
which he considered unseasonable. Mrs. Bache thus 
excuses herself for participating in it in a letter dated 
September '14, 1779: "I am indeed much obliged to 
you for your very kind pi'esent. It never could have 
come at a more seasonable time, and particularly so as 
they are all necessary. * * * But how could 
my dear papa give me so severe a reprimand for wish- 
ing a little finery. He would not, I am sure, if he 
knew how much I have felt it. Last winter was a sea- 
son of triumph to the whigs, and they spent it gaily. 
You would not have had me, I am sure, stay away from 
the Ambassador's or General's entertainments, nor when 
1 was invited to spend the day with General Washing- 
ton and his lady ; and you would have been the last 
person, I am sure, to have wished to see me dressed 
with singularity. Though I never loved dress so much 
wish to be particularly fine, yet I never will go out 
when I cannot appear so as de credit to my family 



342 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

and husband. * * I can assure my dear 

papa that industry in this country is by no means laid 
aside; but as to spinning linen, we cannot think of that 
till we have got that wove which we spun three years 
ago. Mr. Duffield has bribed a weaver that lives on 
his farm to weave me eighteen yards, by making him 
three or four shuttles for nothing, and keeping it a secret 
from the country people, who will not suffer them to 
weave for those in town. This is the third weaver's it 
has been at, and many fair promises I have had about 
it. 'Tis now done and whitening, but forty yards of 
the best remains at Liditz yet, that I was to have had 
home a twelvemonth last month. Mrs. Keppele, who 
is gone to Lancaster, is to try to get it done there for 
me ; but not a thread will they weave but for hard 
money. My maid is now spinning wool for winter 
stockings for the whole family, which will be no diffi- 
culty in the manufactory, as I knit them myself. I only 
mention these things that you may see that balls are 
not the only reason that the wheel is laid aside. * 
* * This winter approaches with so man} 
horrors that I shall not want any thing to go abroad in, 
if I can be comfortable at home. My spirits, which I 
have kept up during my being drove about from place 
to place, much better than most people's I meet with, 
have been lowered by nothing but the depreciation of 
the money, which has been amazing lately, so that home 
will be the place for me this winter, as I cannot get a 
common winter cloak and bat but just decent undei 
two hundred pounds ; as to gauze now, it is fifty dollars 



SARAH BACHE. 343 

a yard ; 'tis beyond my wish, and I should think it not 
only a shame but a sin to buy it if I had millions. It 
is indeed, as you say, that money is too cheap ; for 
there are so many people that are not used to have it, 
nor know the proper use of it, that get so much, that 
they care not whether they give one dollar or a hun- 
dred for any thing they want; but to those whose 
every dollar is the same as a silver one, which is our 
case, it is particularly hard ; for Mr. Bache could not 
bear to do business in the manner it has been done in 
this place, which has been almost all by monopolizing 
and forestalling." 

In the patriotic effort of the ladies of Philadel- 
phia to furnish the destitute American soldiers with 
money and clothing during the year 1780, Mrs. Bache 
took a very active part. After the death of Mrs. 
Reed, the duty of completing the collections and 
contributions devolved on her and four other ladies, 
as a sort of Executive Committee. The shirts 
provided were cut out at her house. A letter 
to Dr. Franklin, part of which has been published, 
shows how earnestly she was engaged in the work. 
The Marquis de Chastellux thus describes a visit which 
he paid her about this time : " After this slight repast, 
which only lasted an hour and a half, we went to visit 
the ladies, agreeable to the Philadelphia custom, where 
the morning is the most, proper hour for paying visits. 
We began by Mrs. Bache. She merited all the anxiety 
we had to see her, for she is the daughter of Mr. Frank- 
lin. Simple in her manners, like her respected father, 



344 WOMEN OP THE REVOLUTION. 

she possesses his benevolence. She conducted us into 
a room filled with work, lately finished by the ladies of 
Philadelphia. This work consisted neither of embroi- 
dered tambour waistcoats, nor of net-work edging, nor 
of gold and silver brocade. It was a quantity of shirts 
for the soldiers of Pennsylvania. The ladies bought 
the linen from their own private purses, and took a 
pleasure in cutting them out and sewing them them- 
selves. On each shirt was the name of the married or 
unmarried lady who made it ; and they amounted to 
twenty-two hundred. 

Mrs. Bache writes to Mrs. Meredith, at Trenton ; 
" I am happy to have it in my power to tell you that 
the sums given by the good women of Philadelphia for 
the benefit of the army have been much greater than 
could be expected, and given with so much cheerful- 
ness and so many blessings, that it was rather a pleasing 
than a painful task to call for it. I write to claim you 
as a Philadelphian, and shall think myself honored in 
your donation." 

A letter of M. de Marbois to Dr. Franklin, the 
succeeding year — thus speaks of his daughter : " If 
there are in Europe any women who need a model of 
attachment to domestic duties and love for their country, 
Mrs. Bache may be pointed out to them as such. She 
passed a part of the last year in exertions to rouse the 
zeal of the Pennsylvania ladies, and she made on this 
occasion such a happy use of the eloquence which you 
know she possesses, that a large part of the American 
army was provided with shirts, bought with their 



SARAH BACHE. 345 

money, or made by their hands. In her applications 
for this purpose, she showed the most indefatigable 
zeal, the most unwearied perseverance, and a courage 
in asking, which surpassed even the obstinate reluctance 
of the Quakers in refusing." 

The letters of Mrs. Bache show much force of charac- 
ter, and an ardent, generous and impulsive nature. She 
has a strong remembrance of kindness, and attachment 
to her friends ; and in writing to her father her venera- 
tion for him is ever apparent, combined with the confi- 
dence and affection of a devoted daughter. Her beloved 
children are continually the theme on which her pen 
delights to dwell. Again and again the little family 
group is described to her father when abroad ; and it is 
pleasing to dwell on the picture of the great philosopher 
and statesman reading with parental interest domestic 
details like the following ; " Willy begins to learn his 
book very well, and has an extraordinary memory. He 
has learned, these last holidays, the speech of Anthony 
over Ccesar's body, which he can scarcely speak with- 
out tears. When Betsy looks at your picture here, 
she wishes her grandpapa had teeth, that he might be 
able to talk to her ; and has frequently tried to tempt 
you to walk out of the frame with a piece of apple pie, 
the thing of all others she likes best. Louis is remarka- 
ble for his sweet temper and good spirits." To her son 
she says : " There is nothing would make me happier than 
your making a good and useful mar.. Every instruction 
with regard to your morals and learning I am sure 
you have from your grandpapa: I shall therefore only 



346 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

add my prayers that all he recommends may be strictly 
attended to." 

In September, 1785, after an absence of nearly seven 
years at the Court of France, Dr. Frankkn returned to 
his home in Philadelphia. He spent the last years of 
his life amidst the family of his daughter and the de- 
scendants of the friends of his early years, the most of 
whom he had survived. 

In 1792, Mr. and Mrs. Bache visited England, and 
would have extended their tour to France, had it not 
been for the increasing troubles of the French Revo- 
lution. They were absent about a year. 

Mr. Bache, having relinquished commercial pursuits, 
removed in 1794 to a farm upon the river Delaware, 
sixteen miles above Philadelphia, which he named Settle, 
after his birthplace. Here they spent upwards of thir- 
teen years, making their residence the seat of hos- 
pitality. 

In 1807, Mrs. Bache was attacked by cancer, and 
removed to Philadelphia in the winter of 1807-8, for 
the benefit of medical attendance. Her disease proved 
incurable, and on the 5th of October, 1808, she died in 
the house in Franklin Court, aged sixty-four years. 
Her remains, with those of her husband, who survived 
her a few years only, are interred in the Christ Church 
burial-ground, beside those of her parents. 

In person, Mrs. Bache was rather above the middle 
height, and in the latter years of her life she became 
very stout. Her complexion was uncommonly fair, 



SARAH BACHE. 34 » 

with much color ; her hair brown, and her eyes blue, 
like those of her father. 

Strong good sense, and a ready flow of wit, were 
among the most striking features of her mind. Her 
benevolence was very great, and her generosity and 
liberality were eminent. Her friends ever cherished a 
warm affection for her. 

It has been related that her father, with a view of 
accustoming her to bear disappointments with patience, 
was sometimes accustomed to request her to remain at 
home, and spend tne evening over the chess-board, 
when she was on the point of going out to some meet- 
ing of her young friends. The cheerfulness which she 
displayed in every turn of fortune, proves that this dis- 
cipline was not without its good effect. 

Many of her witticisms have been remembered, but 
most of them, owing to the local nature of the events 
which gave rise to them and their mention of individ- 
uals, would not now bear being repeated. Her remark 
that " she hated all the Carolinians from Bee to Izard, 
would be excluded for the latter reason, but may per- 
haps be excused here, as it has already appeared in print. 
What offence Mr. Bee had given, is not known, but Mr. 
Izard's hostility to her father was of the most malignant 
character. 

She took a great interest through life in political 
affairs, and was a zealous republican. Having learnt 
that the English lady to whom some of her daughters 
were sent to school, had placed the pupils connected 
with persons in public life (her children among the num- 
ber), at the upper end of the table, upon the ground that 



348 WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

the young ladies of rank should sit together, Mrs. Bache 
sent her word that in this country there was no rank 
but rank mutton. 

Mrs. Bache had eight children, of whom her eldest 
daughter died very young, and her eldest son in 1798 of 
the yellow fever, then prevailing in Philadelphia. Three 
sons and three daughters survived her. 



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